Comfort Wolf
by MusicLover19
Summary: Stiles comes back from the interaction with Gerard and finds a wolf in his room. Cue bonding, eyes rolling and most of all, feeling safe.
1. Worry Like A Wolf

**Chapter 1 - Worry Like A Wolf**

It was after all the chaos of the lacrosse game and the incident with Gerard that Stiles managed to get away. Everybody had been caught up in the events happening, Stiles could handle the injuries that came from the old man by himself, there was no need to worry his friends.

It was after all the chaos of the lacrosse game and the incident with Gerard that Stiles managed to get away. Everybody had been caught up in the events happening, Stiles could handle the injuries that came from the old man by himself, there was no need to worry his friends.

It was upon entering his room, finally feeling able to breathe easier that he froze, his body aware once again. A low growling filled the room, Stiles flicked the light on, his eyes widening at the slight of a huge dog – wait, a wolf curled on his bed.

Stiles stood near the open door, unsure of what to do. If he ran, the animal would surely follow, if he stayed, well he would die either way.

"Nice doggy," Stiles said, a hint of hysteria in his voice. "No need to get all growly on me." Stiles raised his hands slowly, keeping his palms facing the animal. "How did you get in here?" Stiles asked himself out loud, pausing as the animal's head moved to the window.

Stiles let out a panicked laugh, "werewolf?" he asked the growling form who had turned back to stare at him.

Stiles had the imagine of the wolf raising an eyebrow, instead it gracefully jumped off the bed and was in front of Stiles in an instant, causing the younger man to squeak and flail backwards.

"Not cool dude!" he cried as the wolf moved even closer still and pressed its muzzle against Stiles' side. The growling stopped and in its place was a low whine.

Gently placing a slightly shaky hand on the wolf, Stiles began to run his fingers through the fur. "It's ok buddy," he said softly. "I would like to know why you're here but if you promise not to eat me then I guess you can stay for a while?" Stiles offered, unable to help the smile as he felt a puff of warmth on his side at the snort the wolf gave.

Stiles smile fell when the wolf nudged his side again, causing a soft hiss to leave his mouth. The whining began again as the wolf gently took hold of Stiles' clothing and lead him to the bed.

"I'm ok," the kid murmured, letting himself be moved. He sat on the edge of the bed, bemused as the wolf jumped up next to him. "I don't –"

Stiles was cut off from continuing as the wolf pushed him back. "Ow you fucker," he had complained as his chest exploded with pain.

The wolf whined again, lowering its head and moving closer to Stiles, its body close to the bed.

"Fine," he huffed. Stiles rolled his eyes as he toed off his shoes, he hesitated for a second, considering taking off a few layers but not quite being prepared to see the damage that was caused to his body. Without worrying on it, Stiles let himself stop thinking as he moved properly onto his bed, the exhaustion from the past day's events finally catching up to him.

"Oof," Stiles exhaled as a warm body was pressed against his front. "You aren't a blanket," he muttered, unable to voice his thankfulness that he wasn't alone. He brought his arm up and curled his fingers in the fur on the back of the wolf, absentmindedly stroking the soft fur.

If Stiles didn't know better, he would have said that he had caused the wolf to purr. A cold nose pressed against Stiles' neck as his eyes grew heavier, the lingering pain in his body slowly began to ease as he drifted off to sleep.

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It was with a groan that Stiles finally began to awake, his body stiff and sore. Before even opening his eyes, Stiles mentally made a comment on how warm his lower body felt and how unusual it was that he hadn't kicked the blankets off completely.

It was a strange feeling that caused him to open his eyes, momentarily blinded by the brightness from the open window as he felt the sensation again. Looking down he saw the wolf from his imagination laid on his legs, realising that the feeling he had felt was from the wolf's minute movements.

Stiles let out a shaky laugh. Lifting a heavy arm to touch the wolf, unsure of whether the past day had caused him to have a psychotic episode. Reacting to the turn, the wolf turned its head and pressed its muzzle against Stiles crotch, causing the male to yelp and attempt push the wolf away.

"Bad dog! Bad touch!" Stiles chastised, much to the (in Stiles' opinion) unamused wolf who just stared at him. "I don't care if you just woke up but you do not just go around pressing your nose anywhere."

Stiles was sure the wolf had rolled its eyes as it crept up the bed and then slowly licked up Stiles' face.

"Ew! Oh my god, don't people teach you manners!" Stiles fussed, thrashing around, trying to move from the wolf.

It resulted with the male on the floor, groaning from the impact.

"Shut up," Stiles hissed as he saw the wolf look over from the bed. "This is your fault."

The wolf growled.

"Fine, it isn't completely your fault," Stiles amended. "I wouldn't be in so much pain if Argent didn't – whoa, calm down!"

At the name the wolf growled again, a lot deeper and more menacing. Even though Stiles knew that the wolf had had the chance to hurt him it did not stop the fear that bubbled up in his throat that the sound.

Slowly the wolf began to calm down, he (as Stiles finally noticed) made his way down off the bed and began to press itself against Stiles' side once again. The growling had changed from angry to soothing, causing Stiles to relax into the fluffy creature.

"It's ok," Stiles muttered, his hand once again moving to run through the fur. "I'll survive. They only wanted to send a message, they could have done that by killing me – but they didn't!" Stiles said loudly as the growling began to grow deeper again. "Jesus, you are so damn angry. Yes, they hurt me but it's what happens when you're the weakest link in the pack. Or connected to the pack I guess," Stiles said with a shrug.

The wolf pressed his nose against Stiles' neck again, breathing his scent in before nuzzling his muzzle against the boy. Stiles felt helpless against the action, the gently grumbling of the wolf along with the softness of the fur caused a lump to form in his throat.

"God," he said with a bitter laugh. "I don't even know who you are. You could be anyone – well a werewolf anyone. I don't think I know any that can turn full wolf though," Stiles let his voice trail off. The two sat in silence, the wolf having stopped scenting the boy and sat next to him, not letting the boy's hand leave his fur.

"You could be searching for secrets," Stiles said softly. "If you are," he added, looking into the wolfs blue eyes, "you're in the wrong place. I don't even know if I'm classed as pack, the hunters seemed to have the opinion that I was just a toy," Stiles smiled softly, his fingers tightening in the wolfs fur as it growled lowly again. "I had a similar reaction," he confessed. "I mean I don't think I can really pull off the growly mean face but I didn't just let them say that."

The wolf whined again, he softly nudged Stiles' cheek with his nose. Stiles murmured a soft 'I know' as he brought his other hand to the wolfs muzzle, gently stroking the thin fur.

"Sometimes I wish none of this was real," Stiles said honestly. "It would just be easier you know. No worrying about dying. No worrying hunters will kill my best friend. The biggest thing to worry about would be my dad's health. No psychopath headmasters that are insane hunters, the good old days," Stiles said bitterly.

The wolf pulled back from Stiles, just staring.

"Don't give me that look," the boy huffed. "I bet you're a born wolf, all judgemental because you never had a normal life."

The wolf rolled his eyes again.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Stiles said, smirking in victory when the wolf did nothing more than forcefully lay across Stiles' lap.

The silence grew again. Stiles felt calm, a rare feeling. There was no panic, no worrying. It was just relaxing. There was nothing but the warm body across his legs and the soft fur under his fingertips.


	2. What Happened?

_**So I got a nice response to the last chapter and my head continued on so I thought I'd be nice back and give this to you all earlier than I was planning. Granted, you will have to wait a week for the next chapter but here is Peter!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - What Happened?**

Stiles stayed sat on the floor, his fingers slowly moving through the fur on the wolf's back.

"Huffington?" Stiles asked, sniggering when the wolf looked at him with a huff before rolling his eyes. "I'll take that as a no. How about HuffMcGrowl?"

The wolf stopped responding, seeming content to ignore the ramblings.

"Mr. HuffMcGrowl it is then," Stiles commented.

HuffMcGrowl froze on top of Stiles' legs, he tilted his head before standing and nudging at Stiles' side.

"Whoa, ok, bad name I get it," Stiles said with a groan as the tender spots on his side were pressed.

The wolf whined as he nudged the boys side again. This time Stiles heard a key in the front door.

"Shit," he said, quickly trying to stand and softly cursing when it pulled at his injuries. "Stay here," he said firmly, with a hint of panic as he looked back at the wolf.

Stiles slowly made his way down the stairs, he had heard his dad come home, still talking on the phone.

"I've just got home, listen. If he – if he shows up at the hospital let – " Stiles saw his dad, he stopped, his eyes closed. "Ok thanks," he said as he hung up. He sighed before opening his eyes.

"Stiles," his dad gasped, rushing forward.

"It's ok – dad it's ok," Stiles said, trying to calm his father as he turned his head, looking at the obvious injuries.

"Who did it?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly.

"It's ok," Stiles tried again. "It was – it was just a couple kids from the other team," he said softly. "You know, they were pissed about losing. I was mouthing off you know, next thing I know –"

"Who was it?" his dad repeated firmer, still holding Stiles' head at an angle to look at the cuts.

"Dad, I don't know. I didn't even see them really," Stiles said, wincing slightly as the pressure his dad put on his cheek.

"I want descriptions," he said, going into Sherriff mode.

"Look, dad, come on. It's not even that bad," Stiles tried.

"I'm calling that school. I'm calling them and I'll personally go down there, and I'm gonna pistol-whip these little bastards!"

"Dad!" Stiles said loudly, his eyes filled with tears against his will. "I just – I – I said I was ok," Stiles said again, his voice breaking slightly.

"God," his dad said as he pulled Stiles in for an embrace. Both of them stood there, each trying to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered into his dad's shoulder, "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, no. you didn't do anything," John said, pulling back and staring at his son in the eyes. "You didn't make them do this. You understand?"

Stiles said nothing, looking away.

"I mean it," John said firmly.

"I'm – I'm going to go lay down," Stiles said.

John wet his lips, he was slightly for a moment before he nodded. "Try and get some rest kiddo," he said.

Stiles took that as his cue and left without another word. He almost ran up the stairs and into his room before his dad could change his mind and question him more. Without even thinking of looking for the guest that was in his room previously he had thrown himself onto the bed with a hiss and buried his face into his pillow.

It took a few minutes but soon Stiles' pity party was interrupted by his bed shifting and a warm body covering his back. Stiles groaned softly as his pain began to ebb away once again.

"You can take pain as a wolf, good to know," Stiles said, not lifting his head from the pillow.

A cold, wet nose nudged him on the back of his neck. Stiles shivered slightly and wriggled under the wolf.

"I hate lying to him," Stiles said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

The wolf whined softly.

"I can't tell him," Stiles argued. The nose nudged him again. "He probably wouldn't believe it and he'd be in danger if he knew."

The wolf didn't do anything more than softly nose at the back of Stiles' neck.

It felt as though hours passed as the two laid together, neither moving nor making sounds other than to breathe.

"Stiles," John called from elsewhere in the house.

"One minute," Stiles shouted back, finally lifting his head from the pillow. "Ok, move it wolfie," Stiles said softly as he wriggled.

The wolf huffed, taking care to move off of Stiles before jumping down to the floor.

"I need to name you properly," Stiles pointed out. "I can't keep calling you 'wolf'."

The wolf rolled his eyes, he walked over to the window before turning and moving back over to Stiles. He whined softly as he nudged the boy.

"It's ok," Stiles said as he pushed himself from his bed. He ran his hand down the wolf's back.

Once Stiles was standing, the wolf rubbed himself against his legs, much like a cat would do. Stiles raised an eyebrow, watching as the wolf then pressed his nose against Stiles' side before turning and then jumping out of the window.

Stiles threw himself over to the window with a gasp, half expecting to see the wolf crumpled on the ground below. Instead he was greeted with the sight of the wolf running away from the house.

Stiles shook his head gently, not sure what to make of the seemingly suicidal wolf that had decided to spend the night with him.

"Stiles!" John called again.

"Coming," Stiles shouted back, he gave another quick glance out of the window before he shut it and then went to see what his dad wanted.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stiles frozen upon entering the house that Scott had told him to go to. There was a brief moment where Stiles reconsidered that he may be having a psychotic breakdown. The quiet murmuring in the room before him halted as everyone turned to Stiles.

"What happened?" Scott demanded.

"Who did that?" Derek asked at the same time.

Stiles didn't answer either of them, instead, his eyes did not stray from the man that seemed insistent of destroying his whole life, even in his death.

"Stiles!" Scott hissed, moving forward with worry at the silence. "What happened? Who did that?"

"Am I the only one that can see that?" Stiles asked, his voice faint.

"What happened. To your face?" Derek asked.

"Clearly he doesn't want to talk about it," the silky voice said, causing Stiles' eyes to narrow.

"Seriously!" Stiles snapped. "Am I going crazy or is that bastard actually there?"

Scott frowned and looked away. "He helped us deal with Jackson, I would have told you but you went missing…" he said.

Stiles looked to each of the people in the room, his eyes lingering on Peter's amused blue eyes.

"How is – he's – it's not possible!" Stiles finally managed.

"That's a good question," Scott frowned, turning to Derek.

"Good job on deflecting the attention," Peter remarked with a smirk. "It was a ritual, brought me back to life and restored my sanity," he shrugged.

"Convenient," Stiles said emptily.

"Stiles," Derek growled. "What happened to you?"

"It – it was just some people upset about the game," Stiles shrugged. He ignored the disbelieving look that Derek shot him as well as Peter.

"Who was it?" Scott frowned.

Stiles shrugged again, "they got me from behind, didn't see who took me," which was technically the truth.

"Right," Scott said.

"So why do I have to be here?" Stiles asked.

"An Alpha pack is here," Derek said stiffly.

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked sharply, looking at Derek.

"A pack," Peter said. "Consisting of only alpha's."

"Peter," Derek growled.

"He asked," Peter shrugged as he walked towards Stiles.

"An alpha pack is not unheard of, they tend to be rare," Peter said softly to Stiles. "Alphas are territorial, more than one in an area almost certainly means conflict. Alphas tend to fight amongst themselves, the winning one becoming the leader and more than not, the loser being disposed."

Stiles stood stiffly, not wanting to show weakness around Peter.

"Why not just let them fight each other?" Scott asked.

Peter raised an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact with Stiles, almost asking if he knew the answer.

Lifting his chin slightly, Stiles responded to the unspoken prompt, "They've come here Scottie," Stiles said. "No pack would move when there is conflict. Well, they wouldn't move together. They won't be fighting each other without being provoked. They'll have a ranking within themselves."

Peter's delighted smirk send a shiver down Stiles' spine.

"I knew you were a smart one," he purred.

"Peter," Derek growled again, causing his uncle to take a step back and adopt an innocent expression. "He's right," he then added, turning to Scott.

Taking the opportunity Peter stepped closer to Stiles, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

"Whoa," Stiles flailed, unable to move away from the secure grip. "Bad touch!"

"You're radiating pain," Peter said with an audible eye roll.

"Doesn't mean you just touch a guy," Stiles said, unwilling to admit that it felt nice to have his pain disappear.

"Leave him alone," Scott growled.

"Really, I'm just trying to help," Peter said with a smirk.

"Enough," Derek growled, "Peter leave him alone."

Peter raised his hands and stepped away from Stiles.

"What are they here for?" Stiles asked, trying to ignore the heavy feeling of Peter's eyes on him.

"I'm sure they just want to sit down and share a meal," Peter said dryly.

"Oh har har asshole," Stiles snapped back as Scott looked between Peter and Stiles in vague horror.

"We should go," Scott said roughly, not taking his eyes off Peter. "Unless there is more?"

"Oh, um – before we do," Stiles said as he began to fidget slightly. "Derek, are there any new – well other than the alpha pack – actually never mind," Stiles said as he shook his head.

"Stiles," Derek ground out.

"Fully shifting into wolf form," Stiles blurted out. He turned pink as eyebrows raised all around him. "Fluffy adorable dog-like wolves," he amended.

Derek sighed, closing his eyes, "what about them?"

"Can anyone in the pack do it?" Stiles asked carefully, ignoring how his heart sped at voicing the words. He noted Scott's confused look as well as Peter's curious head tilt with a barely there smile.

"No one in this pack," Derek said after a moment.

"I was worried you'd say that," Stiles grimaced.

"You've seen a wolf?" Scott asked, concerned.

"I –" Stiles paused, unsure of just what to say. He didn't want berating for what had happened, plus he wasn't hurt from the wolf, so even if it was part of the alpha pack, then surely they wouldn't do any harm. _Unless they want information_ , a traitorous part of his mind offered. "I thought I saw one," Stiles finally said, hoping that his heartbeat wouldn't give him away.

Stiles glanced quickly at each person before him, Scott looked concerned. Derek looked – well, Derek's eyebrows were furrowed. Peter was openly shocked, his expression the easiest to read out of the small group.

"If you see it again, tell us. We'll track it and see where it goes. It could be part of the alpha pack," Derek said sternly.

Stiles just nodded, unsure of why he felt so disappointed at the instruction given to him.

"Come on," Scott said, taking hold of Stiles' arm and pulling him back out of the building. It wasn't until they were back outside that either of them said anything.

"Dude, you smell so much of Peter," Scott said as he scrunched his nose up.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I know he touched you but it smells like the two of you rubbed against each other for hours," Scott frowned.

"Strange," Stiles said softly, his thoughts already racing at that fact.


	3. A Good Night's Sleep

**Chapter 3 – A Good Night's Sleep**

As days passed, Stiles hated to admit it but he had missed his furry visitor. His injuries were healing and school had begun once again and yet Stiles was struggling to sleep through the night, or even go back to sleep after waking for the first time. The bags under his eyes grew as the days continued. It became harder for Stiles to focus in class, his work had slacked and he felt like his whole body was sinking and unable to stop it.

To make matters worse, as the days continued to pass, Stiles felt more confident in saying that he was growing ill. It had begun small enough for Stiles to ignore, the fluttering in his chest, it could have just been anxiety due to the Alpha pack being near. However, that excuse did not work as the flutters turned into a dull ache as the days progressed. Scott had even begun to notice as Stiles would absent-mindedly press a hand to his chest, hoping the pressure would relieve the ache.

It was another night that Stiles struggled to sleep, spending most of the night tossing and turning upon the bed, firmly trying to ignore the building ache in his chest. After a few hours, he had stripped off his pyjamas to just a pair of boxers, feeling much too warm in the small room. It was then about an hour later that he had gotten up once again and opened his window an inch, hoping the cool outside air would help.

After a while, Stiles began to drift closer to sleep. Still somewhat aware of his surroundings, yet too close to sleep to fully comprehend what was around him. A strong breeze entered the room, causing Stiles to shiver, it took a moment for Stiles to gather the energy to reach for the blanket next to him. Finding the warmth, he greedily curled up into it and fell into a deep sleep the ache in his chest finally lessening.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was unusual for Stiles to slowly wake, normally his brain would seemingly jolt and push forward until the rest of him was awake and ready for the ride. Today though, Stiles felt his awareness return to him without any thoughts already taking place around his mind. He felt rested, for the first time in the past few weeks.

Having reached for the warmth next to him, Stiles let himself move closer, sighing softly at the softness of his blankets. He took a breath, his mind still somewhat dazed as a quiet moan left his body. Stiles pressed closer to his blanket, wriggling his body as to get comfy. It wasn't the first time that Stiles had woken with his blankets bunched up next to him, nor was it the first time that Stiles found himself slowly rocking his hips against the mass of blankets.

In his dazed state, Stiles didn't fully recognise how different the blanket felt before him, nor how unnaturally warm it was becoming. What did finally get to Stiles was the difference in scent. He had buried his face into the mass, breathing slightly harsher as his thrusts increased. It was on an inbreath that his movements faltered.

What he smelt was not the typical aroma that he was used to, instead he could smell the woods clinging strongly to the mass he was pressed against. Lifting his head slowly, unsure of just what he would find, slightly worried as well, he blinked, taking in the mass of brown fur that he was pressed so closely to.

Stiles took a shaky breath, quickly placing distance between himself and the wolf. The breeze from the open window made Stiles realise just how damp the front of his boxers were. A strangled sound left his throat as he threw himself off the bed and made his way to take a shower.

Whilst showering, Stiles made an effort to not think about what had just occurred. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't relieved that the wolf had returned, nor that he felt no unease at the thought of said wolf crawling into his room during the night to sleep with him. Stiles also attempted not to recall how soft the fur felt against his body, nor how much better it might feel to be pressed against the actual back of the werewolf. Granted, Stiles' attempts did not go as he had hoped.

Once returning to his room, Stiles finally let himself admit that as well as being relieved to find it empty, he did also feel disappointment over the fact that the wolf had just once again left.

Stiles tried to convince himself that the wolf being gone meant nothing. The fact that no evidence other than the open window was a good thing. Stiles didn't really want to tell the others that he had seen the wolf again, Stiles also tried to convince himself that the fact the wolf had reappeared the night before he was due to meet with the rest of the pack also meant nothing.

Granted, Stiles found it harder to convince himself that the past night's sleep was not only as pleasant as it had been due to the wolf. That fact was only a coincidence, correlation does not equal causation after all. Just because Stiles felt the most rested he had in the past week happened on the same night as the wolf appearing was nothing.

It was with that final determined thought that Stiles began the day.


	4. Serious Considerations

_**First, let me say that I felt bad about the shortness of the last chapter so here is an early one.**_

 _ **Second, this did not end up the way I expected it to when I started writing. The second half, in particular, was a shock to me. A nice shock though!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – Serious Considerations**

"You're distracted," Scott points out with a frown when they sit down with their lunch.

"It's been a long week," Stiles said with a shrug, whilst it was technically true, it wasn't the reason for his current mental absence.

"You know you can talk to me," Scott pointed out.

"I know," Stiles said, shooting Scott a smile. "I just need to catch up with school and I need to think things through."

"You normally think out loud," Scott pointed out wryly.

"I'm trying something different," Stiles shrugged.

The day continued in a similar fashion as the morning had. Stiles was lost to his thoughts as those around him grew concerned at his silence, even teachers that would normally be thankful knew that it was a bad sign when Stiles stopped talking. The boy had even stopped responding to his name when called for the register.

Whilst being unaware of his surroundings, Stiles debated every single thing he knew. He thought back to Derek's words when they last saw each other and how he had promised to alert them if he were to see the wolf again. Yet the wolf did not seem dangerous.

Granted part of Stiles was aware that there was a large chance the wolf was just trying to gain his trust but even with that thought, it did not explain why the wolf had joined him in the middle of the night.

No, Stiles was sure that any werewolf would be more than happy to just hurt those that they wanted. There was no need to gain the trust of a weak human. Therefore, why should Stiles worry about it?

Not knowing how the wolf was, that was an issue. Especially after the incident that occurred when he woke – Stiles just hoped that the wolf had only woken once Stiles had left. An unknown wolf could be laying low in order to gather secrets, but surely there was a better way than targeting the human that was loosely linked to the local pack. Although, a strange werewolf would probably have trouble hiding itself from those like it, especially when trying to get secrets.

 _If_ the wolf was out to collect secrets, wouldn't it just be easier to pretend to seek asylum with the local pack? That way they have a better chance to learn their secrets and gain their trust.

None of it made sense to Stiles. The fact that the wolf had returned made no sense. The first instance could be explained as the werewolf following the packs scent, which would lead to Stiles since most of them had been to his house before. Then why would the wolf stay? Perhaps it was to see who lived there, they probably knew that no other wolves lived in his house, so one stayed to see just how the human would react.

That didn't explain the reaction to Stiles being hurt. The wolf had almost seemed protective – it had, after all, laid on Stiles and took his pain. Could that have been a reaction to the scent of hunters? Wouldn't the wolf have assumed that Stiles was a hunter? Then again, they were in Stiles' room, so they would have noticed that his scent was different when he returned, but it didn't explain the wolf's actions.

Maybe the wolf had felt sorry for Stiles? That would explain why it had stayed when he was hurt and why he had drained his pain. Why would a strange werewolf feel that way towards a human linked to another pack? Perhaps it was just pity for the boy who thought he could run with wolves.

The whole thing made Stiles' head hurt and he felt as though he was missing something. A piece of the puzzle.

"Stiles? Are you ok?" Derek asked, drawing Stiles out of his thoughts.

The boy looked around in shock, unaware that he had lost so much time as he thought.

"He's been like this all day," Isaac said dryly.

Stiles quickly looked around the room he was in, Isaac, Erica and Boyd were all stood against the wall opposite him. Scott hovered nearby with a worried look directed at him. Derek stood several steps in front of his betas, his eyebrows drawn as he looked at Stiles. On the other side of the room sat Peter, looking as though he was uninterested with the current ongoing drama.

Stiles chanced a look back over to Derek, once again thinking over his promise to tell him if he saw another wolf. Part of Stiles wanted to admit that the wolf had returned, yet the majority of him did not. The wolf did not seem to be a threat, at least not to him. It had had plenty of opportunities to harm him after all. Instead of harming him, the wolf had just joined him and slept. An enemy would not do that.

With that thought, Stiles decided that if the werewolf began to behave in a different manner, one that could be seen as threatening, he would tell Derek everything. Until then, it could just be a secret between the two of them.

"Stiles!" Derek said again.

"I – I'm ok," Stiles said quickly, knowing right away that his lie was obvious even without the tell of his heart.

"What's – "

"It doesn't matter," Stiles said firmly, cutting Scott off. "I'm sorting it out."

"Have you seen –"

"I'm just getting back on task with everything from last week," Stiles said, interrupting Derek before he had to lie again. "I've not been sleeping," he offered.

"Have you been taking your –"

"Scott," Stiles said. He did not need everyone knowing about his medication, even though they could surely smell it on him. Although the truth was that he had been taking more than he should, just to help get him through everything he needed. School had become a great difficulty, especially since his concentration was elsewhere on a good day, add that to the fact he was so distracted with werewolves and his grades were beginning to reflect the problem.

"Perhaps we should get on with it then?" Peter suggested.

"The Alpha pack have been around town," Derek said stiffly. "No doubt they've been following each of you. They'll be looking for the weak link."

Stiles licked his lips, avoiding all eyes that he knew would be on him.

"We need to appear strong," Derek pointed out. "Stiles…" Derek's tone changed to a softer, more unsure one.

Stiles felt his stomach drop.

"Bite him," Erica suggested. "He wouldn't be weak then."

"We can't afford to have an untrained beta with an Alpha pack here," Derek sighed.

"Then –"

"He's the weak link," Isaac said, cutting Boyd off. "If they get him then they get us."

Scott whined as he looked over to Stiles.

"There has to be something," he said.

"We can't afford to keep him safe," Isaac said sharply. "He's not even pack."

"Enough!" Stiles said loudly. "We get it. I'll stay away, no problem," he added bitterly. "Wouldn't want my weakness getting in the way."

"Stiles –" Scott started.

"No. They'll realise, especially if they are following everyone."

"We can work around it –"

"We can work around me being human?" Stiles said slightly hysterically. "I don't see that working Scott."

"I don't see the big deal," Isaac said. "He's not even helpful."

Derek growled, causing Isaac to stiffen behind him.

"Really?" Peter drawled, his eyes narrowed on Isaac. "I thought you would have taken the time to teach them Nephew."

"There hasn't been any time," Derek said stiffly.

Peter tutted, standing up and walking over to Derek's betas. "Non-wolves are important to a pack. Do you know why?" he said softly. "They keep us human. Without an anchor, we turn feral. We hunt and kill everything around us."

"Peter," Derek said in warning.

"They need to hear it," Peter snapped back. "They should already know. The fact your beta is looking down on pack members –"

"He isn't pack," Derek said sharply causing both Peter and Stiles to freeze. Whilst Stiles wasn't surprised to hear it, it did hurt.

"You're a fool," Peter said softly. "Is Scott pack?"

"If he wants a place, he has one. I have told him," Derek said, his tone almost a growl.

"Does he know of Omegas?" Peter asked, eyeing Derek with a look of annoyance. "Does he know that he has a limited time before the madness kicks in?" Peter asked sharply, his voice raising.

"A limited –" Stiles began.

"A wolf without a pack is a danger to themselves and those around them," Peter said calmly, turning to Stiles. "Whilst unusual, it is not uncommon for a wolf to leave its pack and search for another. More commonly, it is during courting where a wolf will leave and integrate themselves in another pack. Pack bonds strengthen a wolf in every way, it gives them better health, it helps them stabilise their emotions and it keeps their sanity steady. Depending on the wolf, depends on the length of time it takes before these things start damaging them without the pack to draw from," Peter explained. " _That_ is why Omegas turn feral. They lose the ability to think rationally. _That_ is why wolves have a pack. Non-wolves just add to the strength. They add balance," Peter stressed.

"Enough," Derek growled.

Scott had turned pale as Peter spoke, the horror showing on his face. Stiles' ignored Derek, focusing his sole attention on Peter.

"Humans help wolves?" he asked, trying to clarify that he had heard correctly.

"They can, if they are close to the pack. If they are part of the pack," Peter said, his eyes meeting Stiles'.

"So – so just being around a human wouldn't –?"

"Not unless they were pack," Peter said.

Stiles offered Peter a nod. His mind once again beginning to take off without his consent. It offered a bit more of an insight into why the wolf had stayed but it still did not explain anything, it only raised more questions.

"Well, while this is all very fascinating," Stiles said, trying to control his emotions. "I do have things to do. I'll stay away and you won't have to worry about me being the weak link."

"Stiles…" Scott whined.

Stiles offered Scott a smile before leaving with what dignity he felt he had left. He could feel the eyes of all the wolves on him as he turned his back and retreated.


	5. The Pity Party

**Chapter 5 – The Pity Party**

Stiles stumbled over to his bed, his mind surprisingly blank despite the pain in his chest. He didn't bother removing his shoes before climbing on top of the covers and staring at the wall. Everything but his chest felt empty, there were no words to describe what he felt. The drive home had been fleeting, almost unnoticeable.

Time seemed like such a strange concept. Nothing made sense in Stiles' mind, minutes seemed to drag on for hours whilst the hours felt like seconds at the same time.

Slowly being encased in the darkness around him, Stiles barely noticed the bed shift as the wolf returned. It wasn't until the quiet whining began and the body laid next to him before leaning against Stiles that he was pulled from the deep overwhelming void.

Stiles reached back with one hand to tangle him fingers in the brown fur, momentarily breathing easier as the ache in his chest lessened just a little.

It felt like days had passed by the time Stiles felt able to move, the wolf had spent most of the time they had laid together by maintaining a constant sound and a constant presence. Stiles had moved no more than to press back against the wolf and close his eyes to stop himself staring at the wall.

Stiles slowly pulled himself away from the wolf, sitting up and wiping a hand across his face, removing the tears that had seemingly leaked from his eyes. Sitting on his bed for a moment, Stiles toed off his shoes and moved his hand over to the wolf once again.

"Are you part of the Alpha pack?" Stiles asked softly, his voice stretchy. He felt slightly lighter upon seeing the wolf shake it's head out of the corner of his eye.

"An Omega?" Stiles questioned cautiously, getting the hint from Peter's speech that it was not the best thing and that it would probably not be a smart thing for a wolf to disclose.

However, the wolf seemed to regard him for a moment before giving a jerky nod.

"Oh," Stiles breathed, his stomach sinking slightly. "I – I'm not going to be much use," he admitted. "The pack here – I'm not part of it."

The wolf whined, pressing its muzzle into Stiles' thigh. It looked up to him, not moving its head.

"It's not even a surprise that I'm not part of the pack," Stiles said bitterly. "I don't even like most of them," Stiles sighed. "If you want to join them, you'd have better luck leaving me alone."

The wolf whined again, higher in pitch as Stiles' eyes filled with tears that he refused to let fall.

"I – I need to sort out food," Stiles said, looking away from the wolf and gently pushing him back so he could move. Stiles ignored the wolf's eyes as he moved from the bed and made his way down the stairs. He could feel the wolf behind him, as annoyed as Stiles thought he should be, he was thankful for the silent company.

As Stiles lost more time preparing the food, he was hit with how little he wanted to eat. The thought of eating the food before him was not as appealing as it would normally be. Setting aside a large portion for his dad when he came home, Stiles left himself with barely any. He forcefully ignored the disapproving huff when he made his way to the table and sat with his miniscule meal.

Feeling the weight of eyes on his, Stiles ended up snapping, "I'm not hungry ok! At least I'm trying to eat!" before mentally cursing himself for how emotional he was being. It's not as if the wolf had said anything, there was no need for Stiles to be as defensive as he was being.

"'m sorry," Stiles muttered softly when the wolf rested his head on his lap. Stiles softly ran his fingers over its muzzle.

The rest of the night followed in a similar manner, Stiles would get lost in his own thoughts before a noise or movement from his wolf companion would cause his to snap out of it and say something harshly in defence. Each time this happened, the wolf only moved closer to Stiles, offering itself as comfort.

Unsurprising to either, Stiles had fallen into bed much sooner than he normally did. Whilst he did not sleep at first, Stiles laid curled around the warm body of the wolf until the early morning before he was able to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stiles woke to his phone vibrating and playing Scott's ringtone. When he reached for it, the wolf growled.

"I'm not just ignoring it," Stiles said as he rolled his eyes. He moved away from the wolf in order to reach his phone. Before moving too far, Stiles found himself pinned under the wolf's mass.

Stiles blinked in confusion as he tried to remember just what had happened mere moments ago.

"Enough! It could be important," Stiles said.

The wolf growled lowly, his noise pressing against the side of Stiles' neck.

"I can't just ignore him," Stiles huffed.

The wolf pulled back so Stiles could clearly see it and they stared at each other for a moment before Stiles looked away in embarrassment.

"Just how much do you know?" Stiles asked, not expecting an answer. He sighed. "Scott… it wasn't his fault. He doesn't even like the alpha."

The wolf huffed, it's warm breath brushing over Stiles' face.

"I may not actually know but it makes sense that a bond between beta and alpha is stronger when the respect is there. Scott does not respect Derek like that," Stiles pointed out, wriggling slightly under the wolf, trying to find a way to reach his phone.

The wolf growled again, softer than the first threatening one but not as softly as when he had offered Stiles comfort.

"If he dies –" Stiles said, aiming to be threatening but knowing that he was far from that. "I can't lose him completely," he said softly as his phone stopped ringing.

The wolf nosed Stiles' neck again, a soft rumbling leaving its body. Stiles tilted his head, exposing his neck as the wolf's growls turned even softer as he nuzzled into Stiles' neck. In retaliation, Stiles brought a hand to the fur on the wolfs neck and ran his fingers through the fur there. A small part of Stiles' mind was concerned at the clear level of scenting that was occurring between the two of them in the short span of knowing one another.

Gently nudging the wolf away from him, Stiles stood with a smile tugging on his lips. Without a second thought, Stiles left his phone on his bedside table before making his way downstairs to get a drink.

Walking into the kitchen, with his wolf trailing him like a puppy, Stiles was shocked to find a bowl with Clingfilm covering it sitting innocently on the table. Stiles looked at it in confusion, his dad rarely cooked enough for more than one person and it was even rarer for him to leave food out like this for Stiles. Taking a closer look, he noticed a selection of pans and cutlery all washed and drying, ones that he had not used the night before.

Stiles' confusion deepened as he noticed the macaroni and cheese that sat within the bowl. It was not a meal that his dad would make, Stiles was even unsure if his dad knew how to cook macaroni and cheese.

Stiles felt a nudge against his lower back.

"Did my dad make this?" Stiles asked, stepping forward and looking back to the wolf.

It shook his head.

Stiles frowned. "You?"

A nod.

"Poison?"

Stiles couldn't stop his laughter at the wolf's insulted look.

"I'm not sure how I feel about you cooking and leaving food out," Stiles admitted. "The thought of some stranger walking around the house and moving things is a bit uncomfortable," he pointed out. "It's not so bad when you're puppified."

Stiles picked up the bowl slowly, freezing slightly at the note that was hidden underneath.

 _ **You need to eat. Reheat for a minute.**_

"Well, that isn't creepy," Stiles said softly, "should I be aware of any werewolf providing jokes?"

Stiles' smile grew at the eye roll and huff the wolf gave him. Feeling much lighter than the previous night, Stiles indulged the wolf and made way to reheat the food that had been left for him.


	6. Talks with Wolves

**Chapter 6 – Talks with Wolves**

"You didn't answer when I called," Stiles heard Scott say.

"I needed time –"

"You never –"

"This is different Scott," Stiles said firmly, turning to face his friend. "I – they – did you hear what they said? I'm _nothing_."

"You know that Isaac is a dick," Scott pointed out, his voice softening as he realised just how hurt his friend was.

"I get it. Power boost, he's strong now. It wasn't just Isaac Scott," Stiles reminded him.

"You – fuck, _I'm_ not even pack to Derek," Scott pointed out.

"You have a place," Stiles argued. "If you wanted –"

"Derek knows that we are a team," Scott counteracted. "I have told him that."

"But you're an Omega –" Stiles stopped what he was going to say, the worry building as he saw Scott's hesitant expression. "You need a pack," Stiles offered.

"I'm not just leaving you," Scott said as he shook his head. "We don't even know if what Peter said is true."

"It's the most information he's offered and he was an adult in a pack before… I trust his knowledge on this," Stiles said. "You need to join the pack."

"Stiles," Scott growled. "I am not joining unless they take back what they said. You are just as important – I mean it," Scott stressed, seeing Stiles shake his head. "We are best friends, I am not throwing that away for some stuck up asshole."

Stiles laughed weakly, reaching out to pat Scott's cheek.

"Love you man," he said.

"Obviously," Scott replied with a smile. He lent against Stiles' hand for a second before pulling him into an embrace and burying his face into the other boys' neck. "You stink," Scott muttered, wrinkling his nose.

"Don't sniff me," Stiles snapped, pushing Scott away with a smile. "I didn't have time to shower this morning."

"Not – you smell like _Peter_ ," Scott frowned. "Why do you smell like him?" he added with a pout.

"Pete – I – what?" Stiles asked, his mind going blank.

"Well, not completely. It's different but it smells _like_ Peter. More… I don't know, more free," Scott frowned deeper. "That doesn't make sense. It's not human – just very Peter-like."

"So you're saying I smell like a not human Peter?" Stiles asked, his eyebrow raising as he took in the information. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Scott said before pausing. "No? I can't explain it. You do smell like Peter."

Stiles hummed.

"You're going to be quiet again today aren't you?" Scott groaned.

Deciding to leave the rest of his thoughts until later, Stiles turned to Scott again, wincing slightly as the sun hit his eyes. "How did the rest of the meeting go yesterday?"

"The Alpha pack hasn't done anything yet, but they've been following us. No one really knows what to do – or they aren't offering any information," Scott amended.

"So Peter probably knows," Stiles finished with a nod. "It would make sense."

"He was really… strange after you left," Scott said. "He was eviler than normal."

"Crazy evil?" Stiles asked, a moment of panic overtaking him.

"No, just mean. He kept making comments about everyone being stupid and useless. Derek kicked him out of the meeting not too long after you left," Scott said. "It was uncomfortable to be around."

"Strange," Stiles said, adding that information into the Peter folder he was preparing mentally. "More importantly –" Stiles began, sitting up straighter.

Scott gave his friend a look of worry.

"How are you?" Stiles asked, his eyes raking over Scott as if any problems would be visible.

"I'm good?" Scott asked.

"No," Stiles said with a wave of his hand. "How is your bloodlust? The urge to maim? Your obsession with a training huntress? The fact that you might be going insane?"

"I'm not going insane," Scott said with a smile.

"Not yet," Stiles counteracted. "We need to figure out if a pack is the only way to stop it. What even counts as a pack? Is it just wolves? Peter said non-wolves but that doesn't make sense –"

"Stiles!" Scott sighed.

"– How would that even work? I can sort of understand if non-wolves were born into the pack but there is still the lack of wolfiness that separates them. Also how bad would it be to be the only human in your family? Just imagine it. You'd be left alone all the time when they grow fur and run around eating rabbits!" Stiles said exasperated.

Scott just nodded as Stiles continued to rant out loud about how bad it would be to be in that situation, he didn't verbalise how it felt as though Stiles was using the chance to vent his own frustrations at being human.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"You smell like Peter," Derek's gruff voice caught Stiles off guard when he entered his room.

"Jesus!" Stiles shouted as he waved his arms in front of him.

"Why?" Derek grunted, as if Stiles had not said anything.

"We talked," Stiles said automatically, letting his suspicions over his friendly wolf cement into fact.

"The truth," Derek ground out.

"He was checking on me," Stiles said honestly. "He didn't say anything, just… crept around and then left."

Derek looked at Stiles with a hint of pity.

"Don't – you shouldn't trust him," Derek said finally. "He changed after –"

"Obviously he did," Stiles said loudly, stopping Derek. "He was… hell I don't even want to think about what he went through. He lost everyone – even you and Laura. You left him."

"Don't you understand," Derek growled. "He does not need protecting –"

"He is a grown man, of course he doesn't need protecting!" Stiles argued. "It doesn't mean he's evil!"

"He's murdered –"

"People that deserved it," Stiles interrupted firmly. "Everyone he killed had a part in the fire."

"Laura –"

"Laura was cut in half Derek," Stiles pointed out. "A clean cut. Wolves don't do that."

"She was dead before the hunters mutilated her body," Derek growled, his eyes flashing red.

"Fine," Stiles muttered. "But – but that was just after he woke up right?" Stiles said to himself more than Derek. "He wasn't completely healed. I don't know – maybe he felt her nearby and he acted on instinct. Maybe he didn't mean it but he was still healing. You can't –"

"Do you hear yourself?" Derek growled, pushing Stiles against the wall with a thud. "You are making excuses for someone who killed their family. Who killed an innocent person."

Stiles groaned, "Derek –"

"Listen," Derek growled. "Even before – Peter always does what he does for a reason. He _always_ has a reason. People like – people like him are good at pretending. You cannot let yourself be drawn into whatever he is planning. No matter how innocent it seems."

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked harshly, pushing Derek away, who surprising let him.

"There's a reason he has been here," Derek said. "What he – if he does _anything_ ," Derek stressed. "You are too young –"

"Oh my god," Stiles moaned. "You – seriously? I – you don't even know if I like men!" Stiles objected.

"I've smelt it," Derek growled, causing Stiles to flush. "Peter –"

"Is a lot older," Stiles finished. "I am not stupid," he said.

Derek looked at Stiles for a moment, he took another step back and nodded at the teen.

"Do you want the bite?" Derek asked suddenly, clearly uncomfortable.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"It isn't… ideal to deal with a new werewolf but you know enough that it won't be brand new –"

"No," Stiles said. "No!" he repeated firmer. "I don't – I'm not going to accept the bite," Stiles said, knowing that it was not a lie. He didn't want to be under another person's rule. He did not want to lose himself. He wanted to stay in control of his own actions.

"Ok," Derek nodded, the tenseness of his shoulders leaving. He turned to the window before pausing, clearly considering saying something else. Thinking better of it, he left.

Stiles threw himself onto his bed, lying face down on the covers with a groan.


	7. Peter

_**I just want to say that no matter what; you are all valid and what you are feeling is valid. You are allowed to be scared.**_

 _ **Feel free to skip the rest of this by the way.**_

 _ **I'm not American, nor do I want my writing to show anything other than inclusion and acceptance. I am devastated. I barely slept last night, and when I finally did sleep I hoped that when I woke it would be ok. I've been awake for two hours now and I have cried for most of that time. I cannot even begin to imagine what you may be going through. My family and I have almost routinely gone to America every other year, I think that next year may be the first time I refuse. I cannot go to a place where I wouldn't feel safe and I cannot imagine living in a place where I don't feel safe. Granted, it isn't particularly safe where I live but the situation in America seems to be so much worse in the past few hours. I don't understand how a sexual predator (who had openly talked about assault on a recording and is due a trail) was able to win. I am confused and hurt for everyone. I am so terrified for what it means for those a part of the LGBTQ+ community, those of a difference race and ethnicity, those with disabilities... everyone really. No matter what privilege they hold, they are all at risk of what can happen now.**_

 _ **I really hope that the worst does not happen, that this man proves himself worthy but I feel like that is a lost hope. Just know that what you are feeling is ok. It is ok to be upset. It is ok to be angry.**_

 _ **If you voted for him... I do not understand but I hope you had more reasons than hate. There is so much hate and I fear it's only going to grow. I will not condemn you if you thought he was the best choice, I will try to understand and hope you knew what you were doing.**_

 _ **That will be all for my slightly political talk. I really hope you are all safe and just know that we will all get through this, no matter how dire it seems. We are strong and that cannot be taken. I empathise with what you are experiencing and just know that this doesn't have to be the end, even if it might feel like it. There are good things. We will make the world a better place.**_

 _ **Now... I've talked a lot and I think I made sense. I apologise if I didn't.**_

 _ **I wanted to give you some positivity, so I thought I'd post another chapter, I was planning to today but it was going to wait until I had written a bit more on the next one.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – Peter**

Stiles did not move from his spot on the bed as he thought.

The wolf – no, Peter, he was positive that the wolf was Peter. It made sense in a strange way. Both Scott and Derek had mentioned how much he smelt of Peter, how his room had smelt of the older man.

Stiles didn't know much about Peter, only what Derek had said. How much of that would even be relevant? Peter – this Peter – did not seem evil. Sure, he had an attitude but he had done nothing to hint of wanting to harm Stiles. Peter had even offered information, which was more than Derek had. Perhaps death had helped – but why was he spending time with someone that helped kill him?

Stiles thought back to how confused he had been over the wolf's behaviour. The wolf being Peter made sense with his reaction to the lingering scent of the Argent's when he got home. Stiles could understand the instant anger that would hit, but it didn't explain why Peter had stayed longer and even helped him with the pain, maybe it was a tactic – waiting to see if the Argent's were watching him? Then again, they wouldn't be so stupid to hang around, especially when they wanted Stiles to run straight to the Alpha to give their 'message'. Peter must have known that.

Then – then he made sure Stiles ate. That didn't make sense at all. Why would Peter care? Maybe it was the same reason as why Peter had stayed and stopped the pain, which Stiles didn't know.

With a groan into the bed sheets, Stiles accepted the fact that he wouldn't find the answers without letting Peter know that he knew. The thought of letting Peter know caused an intense amount of anxiety. What if his behaviour changed? What if he used what he had learnt from him? Peter had seen him at a few bad points, he had seen him hurt and upset, that was potentially very dangerous in the hands of an enemy.

Stiles rolled over and looked at the ceiling for a second before his body shot upright. Peter – Peter had said he was an Omega! Peter only had a limited amount of time before he went crazy again.

Running a shaking hand over his face, Stiles made a promise to himself to do what he could to stop Peter slowly turning crazy again. It would be cruel to let it happen. He deserved more than that, even if he had a bout of evilness in the past.

Since coming back to life, Peter didn't seem too bad, sure he was frustrating but that seemed to run in the family since Derek was so similar. There had been no killing, nor maiming. There hadn't even been any throwing humans against the wall from the older man, which was something that Derek struggled with. All in all, Peter didn't seem to have an aggressive bone in his body since returning.

None of it made sense to Stiles. He understood that Peter didn't have a place in the pack, he had tried to kill them all. Why was he hanging around a human as a fluffy dog? Was it purely because Stiles could do very little to harm him? It would be a relatively good safety tactic, although an unknowing human might be better. Perhaps since Stiles was 'in the know', that meant something for Peter to be staying close. It just didn't make sense and the more he thought of it, the more he wanted to hit his head against the wall.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stiles sat on his desk chair, watching Peter eat the steak he had cooked for him. Stiles was mentally justifying the action as payback for Peter feeding him previously, he was stubbornly ignoring the slight tingling of happiness that he had gotten from seeing Peter's ear perk up and his whole posture turning more puppified than normal.

"I have some questions," Stiles admitted, smiling softly when he saw Peter freeze momentarily before finishing the last of the steak. "You should be able to answer them with a yes or a no," he added.

Peter moved closer and laid his head on Stiles' lap, looking up to him.

"Ok, great. I'm taking that as a go-ahead," Stiles smiled. "Wolves – well werewolves," he amended, "are they as tactile as normal wolves?"

Peter nodded.

"That's actually… really interesting," Stiles said thoughtfully. He had noticed that Scott had been a bit more touchy-feeling since he was turned but Stiles hadn't _really_ made the link. "Is it normally with pack?"

Another nod.

"That –" Stiles stopped himself with a frown. Not wanting to say anything to scare off Peter, who was being so informative at the moment, even if it wasn't verbally. If wolves were normally more tactile with pack, why was Peter – Stiles had never seen him interact with Derek or the others. Granted, Stiles didn't spend too much time with them –

A huff pulled Stiles out of his thoughts.

"Sorry," he muttered, running his fingers through the fur on the top of Peter's head. "So wolves are tactile with pack. I guess it reinforces the bonds – or stabilises them in a sense," Stiles mused, thankful when Peter nodded again, confirming that he was on the right track.

"It would be easier if you would talk back to me," Stiles pointed out, chuckling at the eyeroll he got in return. "I was wondering about how pack bonds worked," Stiles admitted. "I can guess that the Alpha is the anchor, so to speak anyway. That's with the thought that the pack bonds are an actual thing – can you feel them?" Stiles asked, nodding to himself when Peter nodded, looking faintly amused.

"Is an Alpha the only one able to anchor the bonds?" Stiles asked.

Peter froze, he lifted his head until he was looking at Stiles curiously.

"I'm guessing you don't know?" Stiles said nervously, "What if someone other than an Alpha could though. Can packs survive without an Alpha?"

Peter shook his head.

"Oh…" Stiles said softly. "Does the Alpha have to be another wolf?"

Peter tilted his head.

"Not sure? Or it needs a more complicated answer. Ok," Stiles nodded. "You said you were an Omega," Stiles said, waiting for Peter's nod. "Do you want to be a part of the pack here?"

Peter shook his head quickly.

"I guessed as much," Stiles admitted. "It wouldn't feel right," he thought aloud. "From what I understand, a pack is a family. They work together and they work best when they care for each other. The pack, the one here isn't like that," Stiles said seriously. "They're new and there – they just need to sort out their issues," Stiles finished. Knowing that Peter probably knew that but feeling the need to point it out.

Peter turned his head so his muzzle was against Stiles' thigh, he could feel each warm puff of air that the wolf exhaled.

"Why – is there a reason you have been hanging around me?" Stiles asked softly, petting the fur again. He waited a moment but the wolf didn't move.

"I'm not part of the pack, but you knew that and came back anyway. I haven't really done anything to – I don't understand," Stiles admitted.

Peter whined against Stiles' thigh.

"Why are you here?" Stiles muttered. "None of it makes sense."

Peter huffed, moving away from Stiles. Turning his back, Peter jumped onto Stiles' bed, wriggling around on the covers until the sheets tangled around him. He looked back over to Stiles, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"You're disgusting," Stiles said with a smile.

Peter barked.

"If my bed is covered in fur you aren't allowed back," he threatened half-heartedly. The look he got in return was as much of a glare as a wolf could manage.

A small portion of Stiles' mind was horrified at the imagine in front of him. He knew that it was Peter who was currently tangled amongst his bedsheets and nosing at his pillow. Yet, it was the rest of his mind that was more horrified at the fact Stiles' didn't mind that the wolf he had grown used to was Derek's uncle.

Stiles had not expected this to be the outcome, he had not thought that the wolf that had taken to lounging on his bed and staying within touching distance would be someone he knew. It was oddly comforting for Stiles to know that he had not been approached by a stranger. It was someone he knew that had seen him.

Someone he knew had been there, close enough to touch when he couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was someone he knew that he felt he could turn to and trust to offer silent reassurance. Mostly, it was someone that had been through their own hell and had survived it against all odds. It was that thought that calmed the horrified portion of Stiles' mind. Stopped the anxiety around being murdered in his sleep. Mainly, it made Stiles feel better and that someone, even an ex-murder, was there if he needed them.

* * *

 _ **I will be completely honest and say I don't know if there will be another chapter in the next week or two. I think I'll have to sort out a lot emotionally because I don't want this story to turn into something based on outside events.**_

 _ **I honestly love you all and I hope from the bottom of my heart that you are all safe and cared for.**_

 _ **Thank you so much.**_


	8. A Catchy Song

Stiles woke to a cold bed. He went about his morning routine in a slump, he didn't feel like putting too much care into what he did. He showered longer than he normally did, yet spent most of the time just standing under the water spray.

It wasn't until Stiles had pulled out his clothes that his mood changed. He noticed on his desk a piece of paper with his name written neatly on. Scrambling over, almost tripping in his half pulled up jeans as he did so, he read the note greedily.

 ** _Stiles,_**

 ** _Hope the morning finds you well. You gave me a lot to think about last night, I am sorry I was unable to answer all of your questions but it is better this way. If all goes as planned, you should obtain at least a few answers very soon._**

 ** _Take care at school._**

The note was not long, nor did it give Stiles any answers, however, it did make him hope that this was the start of some further communication other than huffs and growls from Peter in his wolf form, and touches and sarcastic comments as a human.

Briefly taking a moment to mentally compliment how nice Peter's handwriting was, Stiles decided to finish getting ready for the day. It was with a spring in his step that he finished getting dressed, and pranced downstairs.

"You're in a good mood," John commented, as his son fumbled around the kitchen in search of food.

"What?" Stiles asked, pausing and looking at the Sheriff for the first time.

"What's happening today?" John asked, clearly amused with his son's lack of awareness. It was something that would happen more often when he was younger and he got so invested in whatever he did that the rest of the world turned into white noise until he was pulled from his own mind.

"Oh! Just school," Stiles shrugged.

"Nothing else?" John pressed.

"No, why?" Stiles frowned. "Am I forgetting something?"

"No," John said. "Did anything happen yesterday?" John chuckled at the confused look that Stiles sent him.

"I don't –"

"Forget I said anything," John laughed.

Stiles gave his father a suspicious look.

"You are acting weird," Stiles said, his eyes narrowing even further.

John just chuckled as he stood from the table. He said his farewell to his son before heading into work, Stiles' good mood having rubbed off on him.

Stiles had almost skipped to his jeep after he had scavenged enough food together for his breakfast. If Stiles had tripped on his way from his house to the monster of a car he loved, no one was around to note it.

The wide smile Scott had shared only added to Stiles' internal joy. Scott had hopped into the jeep, only pausing to raise his eyebrow at the choice of music that was playing as Stiles bopped to the cheerful pop song.

"Dude," he had scowled when he pulled the door close. "You smell like –"

"Peter," Stiles interrupted, his smile only widening as he drummed against the steering wheel. "I know, we talked."

"About?" Scott asked, he couldn't stop the amusement from bubbling up as Stiles bopped his head in time to the music. They began the journey to school.

"Nothing important," Stiles shrugged, taking a moment to turn the volume up a bit. "He was making sure I don't get kidnapped again. Nice of him right?"

"You remember Peter right?"

"Duh," Stiles rolled his eyes. "He hasn't murdered me yet –"

"Dude!" Scott shouted as the jeep swerved on the road.

"Shit!" Stiles swore, getting control again. He offered Scott a sheepish smile before grinning wickedly. "I need to tell you something," he said seriously.

Scott raised his eyebrow, only to groan when Stiles sung along to the song, pointing over to Scott.

" _I really really really really really really like you, and I want you. Do you want me? Do you want me too?_ " he sung loudly, not caring how out of tune he was as he danced in the car seat. He continued to hum the rest as he focused on the road.

"I worry about you," Scott laughed.

"Have you seen the video? It's great, Tom Hanks is in it!"

"You made me watch it," Scott pointed out, his smile almost too large for his face. "Oh my god, you have it on repeat!" he groaned.

Stiles only cackled as Scott grumbled light-heartedly.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stiles had pulled up the song again when he was making food. He had quickly checked to see if Peter was hidden in his room beforehand, not wanting the wolf to see him dancing around like a child. Stiles had kicked his shoes off, letting himself slide around on his socks.

He sang along loudly, refusing to acknowledge just who was coming to mind as he sung about how much he liked someone.

" _It's way too soon, I know this isn't love_!" he had belted out to the wooden spoon.

He had spun around, preparing to sing the chorus when he stopped suddenly, a look of horrified embarrassment showing as his dad stared at him.

"I should hope it isn't love," John had said before leaving the kitchen to Stiles' antics. Stiles didn't see the amused smile his father had, nor did he know just how full his heart was at seeing the carefree nature that he had thought his son had lost years ago. "Whoever it is, they're special," he had muttered to himself when he went to change out of his work clothes.

Stiles refrained from singing loudly, he just mumbled the words under his breath as he finished the pasta sauce he had been making.

"Who is it?" John asked once they were sat down to eat, the food plated and steaming in front of them.

"No one," Stiles said, his response would have been more believable if it were not for the slightest smile that he had given.

"No one? You don't just sock dance for no one," John pointed out. He remembered the last time, it had been during his last plan to woo Lydia with his birthday gift of baked goods. "Is it Lydia?"

"No," Stiles shook his head. "She's in love."

"Ok," John nodded, not mentioning how before he would have gone on to state how whoever she was with wasn't worth her attention.

"I'm just in a good mood," Stiles shrugged.

"I want to meet the reason you're in a good mood."

"Dad!" Stiles groaned.

After they had eaten, Stiles regrettably told his dad about the homework he had. He was disappointed to find his room empty again and it wasn't until he had pulled his homework out that he noticed the note folded on his pillow, the elegant handwriting beckoning him.

 ** _Stiles,_**

 ** _I am unable to return for a few days. I did find a book which you may find useful. It is an old book that was translated by a late family member, keep it safe and hidden. Inside is information on werewolves and the different bonds that can form. It is the clearest way to explain how pack bonds work to a non-wolf._**

 ** _Also, are you aware that you're singing could be heard down the road, probably even by people without super hearing. I appreciate the sentiment though. I really really really really really really like you too._**

 ** _How was that song made? That many 'really's should not be allowed._**

Stiles let out a long breath, one he didn't know he had held as he read. Stiles didn't know how to describe what he was feeling; it was a mixture of many things. Happiness, trust, pride, hurt, sadness, acceptance. They all were entwined, making it difficult to fully understand. The main feeling was his amusement at the thought of Peter being subjected to the cheery pop song he had been listening to all day. The thought made his snort with laughter.

His amusement sobered quickly with the realization that Peter trusted him with a family heirloom, with something of his past that survived. Just acknowledging that fact made something within Stiles break. He wasn't sure he could have done the same, whether he could share something so personal. He knew he couldn't. There was no question in Stiles' mind. The thought of Peter seeing his mum's old books pained Stiles to his core.

Gingerly, Stiles picked up the untitled book carefully with his shaking hands, his homework now long forgotten. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on each inhale and exhale he made. Once he felt calm enough, Stiles moved slowly over to his bed. He sat on the side that Peter normally laid as he opened the book and began to read the penned text.

 _ **Chapter End Notes**_

 _ **I really do love this song so much.**_ Also _ **I don't know if links work but let's try it here! watch?v=qV5lzRHrGeg**_  
 _ **I can just imagine Stiles singing along to this and I REALLY needed a bit of joy tonight.**_

 _ **Also, I am going**_ to _ **be honest. I just stopped updating on here when I moved to a different platform, but I recently took up the story again, and I feel like I owe it to you to finish it here as well, so I'm going to post everything I have on this now and it's about 10-15 chapters.**_


	9. Bond Theory

"You look tired," Scott pointed out, looking over to Stiles in concern. The other kid had visible bags under his eyes and he was fighting to keep his yawns at bay. "Did you pull another research night?"

"Not on purpose," Stiles groaned, thankful that the weekend had hit, even if Scott had demanded his presence for 'bonding' time. It hadn't taken the teen long before he had claimed Scott's bed and laid with his head hanging upside down over the edge.

"What was it this time?"

"Pack bonds," Stiles said with a yawn. "It was actually interesting, like bonds between packmates aren't the only ones, there are mate bonds, family bonds, even friend bonds. Hell, I think there might actually be enemy bonds as well," Stiles explained. "Each bond seems to have a different function –"

"How did you find this?"

"I – well – Peter –"

"Peter!" Scott gasped. "I know you were around him but – Stiles! We know what he's like!"

"Just – listen," Stiles pleaded. "He… shit Scott, he's been around when no one else was – I know you were there but I needed to not talk," he added at Scott's hurt look. "Peter didn't – he doesn't _make_ me talk, and he actually gives me answers!"

"Stiles…"

"I haven't felt this… this – fuck, I don't know. I haven't had _this_ before," Stiles tried, unable to fully articulate what he wanted to say.

"I don't trust him," Scott pointed out.

"He's made bad choices –"

"Bad choices?" Scott repeated faintly.

Stiles gave his friend a look.

"What I tell you cannot be repeated," Stiles said firmly, "If you say anything to _anyone_ I'll tell your mum about what really happened when she left us here –"

"Dude!" Scott shouted, looking around his room frantically, as though he expected his mother to be waiting.

Stiles nodded to himself, knowing that Scott wouldn't take the risk.

"After I was beaten up, Peter was there – let me finish before you interrupt!" Stiles hissed. " _He_ was the wolf I was seeing. After that, he just kept showing up and last night he gave me a handwritten book that survived the fire."

Scott stared at Stiles with an open mouth, only managing a weak mumbled, 'shit'.

"I know," Stiles said softly. "I know you don't like him… but dude, he has had so many chances to hurt me and no one would have known, he hasn't even technically revealed himself. Now, he's leaving things that has to be difficult to leave."

"He's so much older than you," Scott pointed out.

"What?"

"He's –"

"I heard you," Stiles frowned, turning so he was sat on Scott's bed rather than laid. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he's leaving you personal things," Scott shrugged. "Why would he do that?"

"To answer my questions?" Stiles said, more of a question than an answer.

"But why?" Scott prompted.

"I don't know! Do you want to know what I learnt or not?" Stiles snapped, the lack of sleep not allowing him to humour Scott in his guessing game.

"You need to info-dump?"

"I hate that term," Stiles groaned.

"It's true though, you research binge and then just word vomit all the information onto someone," Scott pointed out.

Stiles threw one of the boy's pillows at him.

"Info-dump away!" Scott laughed, hugging the pillow to his body.

Stiles rolled his eyes but complied with the request, "So, obviously, mate bonds are the strongest, but also like really rare. Werewolves can pick a 'mate'," he said with air quotation marks. "But they aren't as strongly bonded as true mates. It's thought that mate bonds let you know where your mate is and what they're feeling."

"That's…" Scott trailed off, looking slightly horrified at the thought.

"I know right," Stiles agreed. "Being that in touch with someone that you feel everything they feel," Stiles shuddered. "But anyway, pack bonds and family bonds are really similar, I think that's mainly because the two are normally intertwined. They let you have a general 'feeling' of the other person. Family bonds being stronger and I would guess that the bond between a mother and her children would be the strongest due to biology because momma bears are angry and protective – or momma _wolves_ in this case," he snorted.

"From what I read," Stiles continued, "although I don't know how accurate it is but it's written by werewolves so it must be but it's weird and I don't even know if it's possible –"

"Stiles," Scott said gently.

"Oh!" Stiles said, refocusing on Scott. "Right, so positive bonds are an actual thing, like a physical thing," Stiles tried to explain, although his confusion came through clearly in his tone. "This is what I'm not sure about, because the book went on to describe the feeling of the bonds and how with strong bonds, you can almost touch them and that _really_ doesn't make sense. Have you felt the bonds?"

"I'm not part of the pack remember," Scott pointed out, looking as perplexed at the theory of physical bonds as Stiles was.

"Right, I'll have to ask someone else," Stiles frowned. "I wonder if it's different for born wolves? If it's just normal -"

"Probably," Scott added, "they grew up with it, like the senses."

Stiles hummed, making a mental note to ask Peter when the man finally revealed himself.

"The information on wolf bonds was really interesting," Stiles hummed. "It basically said that werewolves have the opportunity to bond with anyone around them but only very basic bonds, ones that aren't strong enough to last. So I guess reoccurring contact improves them, that's why wolves are so tactile," Stiles added. "Enemies must have at least some bond, especially if they form automatically but it'd be negative," Stiles pointed out.

"What –"

"What if enemies formed bonds that let them know when the other was around so they were able to prepare themselves? What if they grew strong enough to cause pain? It would be some defence against them at the very least, or a warning. With what I read, it would be possible, just more negatively fuelled than the positive ones," Stiles mused.

"Did the book mention anything about negative –"

"No," Stiles groaned, ignoring Scott's smirk when he cut him off. "That's the thing, there's so much information but at the same time it's barely anything."

"Did the book say anything else?" Scott asked, wanting to be sure that Stiles was done before he took a more active role in the conversation.

"I'm not finished yet but no," Stiles said with another grown as he let his body fall back onto the bed.

"Ok," Scott nodded, thinking over what Stiles had said. "The bonds are mostly positive, and they are strongest with people that mean a lot to the werewolf, right?"

Stiles nodded.

"Maybe they're feeling based rather than contact based," Scott offered. His thoughtful tone dissolved into laughter when Stiles sat back up so quickly that he almost fell off the bed.

"You are so smart sometimes," Stiles gasped, managing to keep himself steady. "That makes so much sense! Mates have a huge emotional connection, so do families and packs are meant to! So everyone a wolf comes into contact has the _chance_ to develop that connection. Man, I could kiss you."

"Don't," Scott said with a laugh.

"I did ask Peter about Alpha's," Stiles said thoughtfully. "I didn't get a response but he left a note saying he would look into it, but there might be a chance a non-wolf can be an Alpha –"

"No," Scott said. "Whatever you're thinking, just no."

"You need an Alpha," Stiles pointed out.

"We don't even know when an Omega goes insane."

"There has to be signs," Stiles agreed. "If your behaviour changes, I don't care what you say, I will find _someone_ to be an Alpha for you."

"As long as it isn't Peter," Scott said.

"Deal," Stiles nodded.

"I still don't like him."

"I know," Stiles said quietly.

"If you're _sure_ he's not a threat…" Scott trailed off.

"He'll always be a possible threat," Stiles pointed out. "He's too knowledgeable and he has some psychopathic tendencies."

"Not helping," Scott huffed.

"But," Stiles said loudly. "I don't think he is out to hurt us."

"You mean you," Scott deadpanned.

"Hurting you would hurt me," Stiles pointed out with a wave of his hand. "He's had so many chances, and he's done nothing but act like a teddy bear –"

"Dude!"

" – If his behaviour changes, I will let you know but right now? Right now I don't think he will do anything."

"Ok," Scott sighed, and Stiles could see how difficult it was for the other boy to say. "I trust _you_ and if you trust _him_ … I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, until he does something else."

"Thank you," Stiles said honestly. "Now, nothing leaves this room otherwise momma McCall learns about the gun –"

Stiles was cut off by Scott throwing the pillow Stiles had thrown originally, back at his friend.

"Shut up! She's home!" Scott whined.

"You're the werewolf with the super hearing," Stiles teased.

 _ **Chapter End Notes**_

 _ **So info-dumping, is exactly what it sounds like. It's something I have a habit of doing when I go on research binges, although it tends to be my partner that is on the receiving end.**_  
 _ **This one is a bit dialogue heavy but I got caught up in theories and Scott being all 'dude!' and I don't even know anymore. Hopefully everyone is having a great day!**_


	10. Why Not

Stiles spent the weekend at Scott's, spending most of the time playing video games before the two of them were so tired that they both collapsed into bed and fell asleep. It was a relief when Stiles woke and did not have an automatic to the werewolf-like warmth Scott gave off from beside him. It was even more comforting to find that, even though they had ended up cuddled during the night, Stiles hadn't woken up with an erection that pressed into the warmth before him. Instead, Stiles had woke feeling calm and comfortable, just as he had always done when he had crashed at Scott's. It was only a momentary worry that had struck, aware of how he had been reacting to Peter's presence. It both reassured him and worried him that _Peter_ was the cause of Stiles waking up overly hot and bothered and not the actual warmth of the wolf.

Sunday night arrived quickly after another intense gaming session, to which Stiles and his father had sat before the television and ate pizza. Since the issue with the police and Stiles coming back from Gerard's _kind_ hospitality, Stiles had been worried about how his father would react to him. He had wondered if the man would fall back into his drinking habit and working overtime to drown out whatever emotions he was feeling. Stiles had always hated coming across his father huddled over with a bottle nearby, although it was a sight he was accustomed to, so when he was put on leave from the force, it hadn't surprised Stiles one bit that the bottles had made a reappearance. Thankfully, Stiles returning home with bruises seemed to remind his father that he was needed in a sober mind.

Pizza and watching a pointless show was a huge improvement for Stiles. The two talked about unimportant things, edging around anything overly _deep._ Stiles talking about the new game that was released and the weekend of games, whilst his father talked about the latest sports results and how things were _finally_ beginning to settle around the town, even if the fear from the numerous murders were still present.

A part of Stiles wanted to desperately inform his father about the supernatural events and creatures but the more rational part of his brain reminded him of just how bad that would be. He didn't want to put his father into a position where he would be in more danger than a Sheriff would normally be. Even though Stiles knew that being unaware was also a problem, but having the knowledge was not always a good thing.

"You ok son?"

Stiles looked up, slightly confused at being addressed.

"You're in another world? Am I that boring?" John chuckled.

"N - no," Stiles said, refocusing his attention. "I was just thinking."

"What about?"

Stiles bit his lip, unsure of what to say. He wanted to be honest but he also knew that unloading the truth wasn't possible, nor was it even an option.

"That new game," Stiles said finally. "There are all sorts of creatures in it and the lore is really interesting." It wasn't the truth but it could work to cover up anything that he could say that would seem _weird._

"The lore?"

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, thankful that his dad was asking more, whilst dreading it in the same breath. "You play as a supernatural creature, Scott chose to be a werewolf. It was... I was really interested in the theory behind it."

"What did you pick?" John asked, putting his plate down on the coffee table.

"I was a human," Stiles said honestly. "I - werewolves are cool and everything but they have weaknesses - _not to say humans don't have weaknesses_ -"

"Why not be a werewolf?" the honest curiosity in John's tone made Stiles pause. The boy's throat felt dry, memories of Peter's lips at his wrist asking pretty much the same question.

"I - _Jeez_ dad," Stiles said, the words were full of how uncomfortable be felt. "I don't want to be ruled by the moon, I would rather be in control and yeah, super strength and super senses are nice, fast healing would be _great_ \- but I don't want people hunting me because of something - because I can't control myself when my pulse gets too fast. I don't want to hide a part of myself from people -"

"You've put a lot of thought into this," John commented lightly, watching his son carefully. He noted how the boy flushed.

"It was interesting?"

"You telling me that or asking?" John asked, unable to stop his amusement.

"You know what I'm like," Stiles shrugged, hoping to deflect the topic, now feeling even more unsure on just what he was thinking by bringing the topic up.

John hummed thoughtfully, obviously debating whether or not to push the conversation.

"I understand not wanting to be ruled by anything but yourself," John finally said, seeming to weigh his words carefully as he spoke.

Unconsciously, Stiles sagged with relief, thankful that _somebody_ seemed to understand, even if it was only theory based.

"You don't think it's stupid?" Stiles couldn't stop the question, inwardly cringing at the patheticness of himself.

John sent a sharp look at Stiles.

"Why would it be stupid?"

"I - well you know," Stiles shrugged.

"It's ok to want to be in control," John said gruffly. "You've been told this time and time again," he added, remembering Stiles' huffs when he was regularly seeing his therapist who would talk about his need for control and how it was ok, especially after experiencing such an out of control situation like losing a family member.

"Don't act like my therapist," Stiles said with an eye roll.

"Someone has to sometimes," John shrugged.

Stiles rolled his eyes, before eyeing his father slightly. "I need to do homework and you need to put the rest of the pizza away."

"I'll have another slice," John said.

"No," Stiles interrupted. "No more, you've had enough and it's full of bad stuff."

"One more won't hurt me."

"You said that about getting the whole pizza, _a couple slices won't be bad, I've not had unhealthy foods lately so it can be a reward_ ," Stiles said, imitating his father's voice. "I know for a fact you've been eating burgers and junk in your office."

"Go do your homework," John said with a huff, his annoyance more of an act at this point since they both knew nothing would change.

Stiles shook his head, he didn't have the energy to argue too much. He knew that as soon as he was out of sight, the rest of the pizza would disappear, leaving only a box and his father's innocent face behind. Letting his dad feel like he won this round, Stiles left him, not even bothering to pretend to move the box out of reach in the hopes it would stop the man.

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Stiles made his way to his room, remembering to grab his bag on the way, needing to take out the supplies he had taken to Scott's and not used. Even though he made a point of not thinking about the possibility, Stiles couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped when he saw the familiar large ball of fur peeking out from under his bed covers.

"I should start charging you rent," Stiles said with a laugh, his mood having skyrocketed as he made his way over to the bed. He was glad that he took his shoes off downstairs, and that he had not chosen to wear any restricting clothing over the weekend as he crawled into the bed, letting himself press against the body of warmth.

"Would it be silly to say I missed you?" Stiles asked, smiling even wider at the huff he got in response. Peter wriggled in Stiles' arms, turning his wolfy body until he could press his muzzle against Stiles' neck. A shiver left Stiles when the cold nose pressed against him and a quiet growl left the wolf.

"Shush," Stiles chastised lightly. "He's my friend."

Stiles wriggled, tempted to pull back when Peter's tongue made contact with the bare skin of his neck.

"That's disgusting," Stiles complained half-heartedly.

Peter whined softly, snuggling further into Stiles. Stiles let his body relax, his fingers tangling into the fur. It was so similar yet so different to how he felt around Scott. There was the same comfort and warmth, yet so much more as well as an overwhelming feeling of security. Just being so close to Peter made _something_ in Stiles' chest ease, an ache he had not noticed.

Letting himself relax completely, Stiles made a mental note to panic about how calm he felt around Peter. He briefly wondered if it was due to the wolf coat the man wore, or whether the same effect would happen if he were human, but that was something to focus on more in the morning, when Peter had left.


	11. Midnight Call

Stiles woke to a quiet whining in his ear as a nose nudged against his cheek. Not bothering to open his eyes, Stiles swatted Peter's nose, frowning when the whining grew louder.

"Shhh," Stiles murmured, gently running his hand over the soft muzzle.

A growl in response.

Stiles let his hand drop back onto the bed, turning his head away from Peter's warm breath as he tried to go back to sleep. Something pulled against his neck, causing his eyes to snap open. What he saw made him roll his eyes. If wolves could glare, Stiles was sure that's what Peter would be doing. The wolf had his teeth around the neckline of Stiles' t-shirt, pulling it away from the boy.

"What?" Stiles asked with a groan, wanting to go back to sleep as soon as possible, even if that meant kicking Peter out of his bed.

Peter growled again, releasing Stiles' clothing before nudging the boy's cheek.

"Enough," Stiles frowned, trying to keep his tone stern, the room was dark enough for it to not be morning just yet. "Let me sleep dude."

That earnt him an eye roll.

"Fine," Stiles huffed, pushing himself upright so he was now sitting. "What is so important?"

Stiles watched as Peter looked at him for a moment before slowly turning his head to the window. A chill went up Stiles' spine.

"Someone's there?"

A nod. Peter continued to stare at the window, growling when Stiles made an attempt to move.

"I need to -"

The boy was cut off as Peter moved his body over his legs, stopping any attempt of leaving the bed. The silent command of not leaving coming across clearly.

"Do they know you're here?" Stiles asked quietly.

Peter tilted his head.

"My dad?"

Peter looked over to the bedroom door, Stiles took that to mean that his father was still asleep.

Stiles looked over to the window and then back to Peter's form.

"I'd feel better if you weren't furry right now," he admitted, he knew that Peter was an experienced werewolf, he had killed people and Stiles wanted that small bit of reassurance that Peter would keep him safe. It was slightly difficult to keep that martyr going when Peter was a literal wolf on his lap.

Peter seemed to put more weight against Stiles in response to what he had said.

Stiles wanted to ask if Peter would keep him safe. If the wolf would fight for him if it came to it. He wanted to know if he meant more than just a place for Peter to hide. He forced himself to stay quiet, not knowing whether the answer he would get would help or make it worse.

The thought that Peter could just be using his house as a hideaway made Stiles feel sick. It was a silly thing to consider, Peter had woken him to let him know _someone_ was outside. If the man didn't care, then why would he do that? What would he be able to gain from such an action?

Stiles wanted to curl himself around Peter and not let go, which only made his worries about the man's motives even worse. For Stiles to want the presence of him means that if Peter were to leave, Stiles would notice. If Peter stopped coming, Stiles would be upset. He had seen evidence of that on the few nights Peter had been nowhere in sight. Stiles had a moment where he considered if that was the end goal, whether Peter _wanted_ Stiles to become so accustomed to his presence that he felt it when the man wasn't around.

Peter whined, and if Stiles didn't know any better, he would say that the whine sounded questioning. Stiles gave in and curled one of his hands into the fur on Peter's back.

It didn't make sense. If Peter did want something from someone, why would it be Stiles? Stiles was human, barely a threat to anyone but himself. Sure, humans were important in a pack, but Peter didn't have a pack. Peter didn't want Derek as an Alpha and that was the only way that Peter would become part of a pack.

Stiles lost himself in his thoughts, pack bonds were what stopped Omega's going insane, and Peter had confirmed that he was an Omega. Yet wolves had the potential to create bonds with everybody they come into contact with, the bonds solidify and strength based on, seemingly, positive associations and closeness. Stiles had definitely gotten close to Peter, the past negative feelings had also faded. Was it possible that Peter _was_ using him? Could these friendship bonds delay insanity in an Omega? Was that why Scott had stayed relatively sane even though he had always been an Omega? Was is possible that Stiles was more important to the wolves around him than he realised? It felt like he was hoping too much, it seemed almost impossible.

Peter licking Stiles' face pulled the boy out of his thoughts.

Stiles flailed, pushing at Peter with one hand, whilst the other wiped ferociously at his cheek.

"You. Are. Disgusting!" Stiles hissed. He grumbled more as Peter chuffed, clearly laughing at the disgruntled boy. "That's it," Stiles growled. "Out! Out of my bed."

Peter's whole posture changed, gone was the amusement, in its place Peter resembled a kicked puppy. The harshness in Stiles faded slightly at the lowered head and downcast eyes.

"No," Stiles protested. "You wake me up, then sit on me and then lick me. It's the middle of the night!"

A quiet whine.

Stiles stared at Peter. Somehow, the noise he was making was so unlike every other noise, it was sad. Add that to the, _honest to god_ , puppy eyes - Stiles felt the rest of his annoyance leaving.

"They gone?" Stiles asked, relenting and changing the subject slightly.

A nod. Peter shuffled forward, Stiles had managed to push him further away that he realised. He laid his head on Stiles' blanket covered lap and looked up.

"Of course they are," Stiles mused out loud as he played with the fur on Peter's head. He ran his hand from the top of his head, down over his eyes and over his muzzle, smiling softly when Peter sunk into the touch. "You wouldn't want to lose your scary werewolf card by acting like a puppy with a threat nearby."

Stiles felt the puff of air from Peter as he sighed, he could easily see the look of disgust on Peter's face in his mind. The man would have rolled his eyes and shot back a remark faster than Stiles would process it. Looking at the fur covered form on his lap, Stiles could also see how the man would be seen as barely a threat, he acted like an actual canine. Part of Stiles was thrilled to see this part of the man, aware of just how much trust Peter had put into him by returning after Derek had told him to let them know when the wolf came back.

Scratching behind Peter's ear, Stiles congratulated himself on not doing that. It was selfish but he didn't want anyone else seeing Peter like this, it felt special to be the one the man confided in.

Catching sight of the clock brought back all the tiredness. With a groan, Stiles pushed Peter's head off his lap and wriggled so he was laying down. Biting his lip, he gestured to Peter to join him. Not one to disappoint, Peter moved even closer, pressing his body against Stiles' side, his head on the boy's chest as the two of them fell back to sleep.


	12. Figuring Out Feelings

"You look tired."

Scott glanced over at Stiles, there were visible bags under the boy's eyes. Stiles had spent most of the morning's lessons slumped over his desk with his head hand his arms and his eyes closed as the teachers rambled on.

"Peter woke me up last night," Stiles mumbled, not thinking through what he was saying or how it sounded. He was still in his half-asleep world, head cradled on the table as Scott tore into the cafeteria pizza. Therefore, Stiles didn't see Scott's eyes bulge at his words, nor how he almost spat out the half-chewed mouthful of pizza and fries he had just shovelled into his mouth.

"Why did Peter wake you up?" Scott's voice was strangely high as he forced the words out. He didn't want to imagine why Peter was so close to Stiles as he slept, sure, the man had been hanging around his underage friend but being in the house when he was sleeping was much too far!

"Someone was outside," Stiles said, not lifting his head from his arms. He did, however, open his eyes briefly and let out a breathy laugh at Scott's horrified expression.

"Oh thank - what wait?" Scott yelped, the high-pitched voice increased as what he heard caught up to his brain. "Who?" he demanded, a growl sinking into his tone, very out of place with the high tone of panic.

Stiles made a noise of protest, "Alpha pack?" he suggested, Peter hadn't done much to confirm that theory but the fact he was so against Stiles moving from the bed made sense if there were another wolf in the area.

"Dude," Scott whined.

"I know," Stiles said, a hint of darkness seeping into his tone at the thought. He hated the idea of being watched - of being followed by anyone. With a groan, he pushed himself so he was sitting upright. "I am so tired," he groaned.

"Do you want to stay at mine?" Scott offered, watching Stiles with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm not leaving my dad alone," Stiles snapped, harsher than intended.

"Ok," Scott frowned, he understood - _of course he did_.

"Besides," Stiles added. "Peter's pretty much always there -"

"Dude!"

"What?"

"He - I - what?" Scott stuttered. "I thought he was just there _sometimes_!"

"He goes god knows where sometimes," Stiles offered weakly, realising just how little he had told Scott about Peter's presence in his room.

"Are you two -" Scott cut himself off, throwing a hand over his mouth and looking at shocked at the fact he had even spoken.

"Are we what?" Stiles prompted, confused.

"You smell of him," Scott said carefully. Seeming to think over each word before he spoke. "Pretty much all the time."

"So?" Stiles asked.

"Well... if I didn't know better," he said, clearly doubting his own words. "I would say you were _dating_ -"

Stiles said nothing.

He stared at Scott with wide eyes. He didn't even blink as he thought over what Scott just said. He had been spending a lot of time with Peter. He - hell, he looked forward to seeing Peter again, which was a scary acknowledgement.

"You turned white," Scott said, nudging Stiles.

"Scott," Stiles whined. "He let me touch his things!"

Scott's eyes bulged once again and he joined Stiles in turning white.

"He made me food," Stiles continued faintly. "We sleep together - OH MY GOD!"

"Calm down," Scott said, trying to keep his own panic at bay. "We can fix it."

Stiles shook his head frantically. He didn't want to _fix_ it, certainly not in any way Scott was undoubtedly thinking.

"Shit," Stiles said, more to himself than Scott. "What if he isn't aware of how date-y he's being?" Stiles turned to Scott with pleading eyes. "Why do I want him to know what he's doing?"

"Come on, we're going outside," Scott said, he gave a longing look to the food still left on his tray before he shook it off. He gripped Stiles' upper arm gently and guided him out of the cafeteria.

Neither talked until they were out of hearing distance of any of the other teen werewolves.

"You want him to know -"

"I - fuck Scott, he's been so... so... I don't even know man."

Scott fidgeted where he stood, "Has... has he... fuck - has he done _anything_ -"

"Shut up!" Stiles yelped, fumbling as he pressed a hand to Scott's mouth. "We aren't - dude! He's been a _complete_ gentleman... fuck - he. No! We aren't talking about this," Stiles protested, his cheeks bright red as he thought over every single interaction. That first night where he had woken up to Peter - _Jesus,_ to Peter's nose pressed against him. Granted, it was Stiles' movements that had caused that. No, Peter had not done anything. _Nothing_.

"Dude!" Scott hissed.

Stiles stared at his friend with wide eyes. He felt hot. He felt uncomfortable. He wanted Peter nearby to stop all the confusing feelings. Suddenly, Stiles' traitorous mind flashed back to the morning that Stiles made such an attempt to forget.

"Whatever you are thinking of - stop it," Scott hissed, stepping away from Stiles and covering his mouth and nose.

"Do you think he wants to sex me?" Stiles asked, still torn between feeling horrified at the thought and feeling somewhat pleased.

"I think we shouldn't have this conversation," Scott protested.

"Dude! I listened to you whine about Allison!"

"She wasn't old enough to be my dad!"

Stiles couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, and Scott seemed to realise the same thing as he looked at Stiles with a pleading expression.

"I could call him Daddy!" he cackled.

"You - you actually like him?" Scott asked, still looking scared.

That question made Stiles pause mid-cackle. Did he like Peter? Obviously, the man was sweet, in a murder-y way. Did he like _like_ Peter? That was slightly more difficult for Stiles to answer. It wasn't an outright no. He thought about Peter in a different way to how he thought about Lydia though.

Lydia was his automatic go-to in order to see if he liked anyone. After all, she was his first _love_ , even if he uses that term lightly. With Lydia, she was consuming, she took over every single one of his thoughts. Yet it wasn't like that with Peter. Peter didn't take over every single thought, instead, he fit into most of Stiles' thoughts without any problem. He was just _there_.

"Oh my god," Scott groaned. "You _like_ him."


	13. He Liked Peter

_Oh my god. You like him._

The words rang in Stiles' head. They consumed his entire day. Stiles found himself staring at Lydia, contemplating just how different she was to Peter. Sure, she was a prime example of the best female around. Peter couldn't compare to that, but then again, Peter was male. Peter was a good example of a man.

So, Stiles might have admitted his attraction to himself as he got lost in thoughts of how well built Peter was, not too tall, not too short. The muscles that seemed to develop with the werewolf stuff. Even the man's personality drew Stiles in. Sure, he was sarcastic, less than helpful most of the time, and a pain to everyone when he doesn't even try. Stiles had proof that it wasn't the whole of the man's personality, Stiles had seen Peter gentle. He had experienced the man taking care of him – even if it was a meal and protecting him during the night. Peter didn't seem ruthless when he had been around Stiles as the wolf, he seemed more intelligent, more at ease.

Stiles stopped mid-step on the way to his jeep, almost causing Scott to crash into him. He _liked_ Peter. He liked _Peter_. He – _Stiles Stilinski_ – liked Peter Hale. To add another fact, Scott knew before he did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He cried, turning on his friend, who backed up with wide eyes. "How could you leave me to figure it out! You are a horrible friend!"

"Dude!" Scott whined. "What –"

"How did you – I _like_ Peter."

"I said this earlier," Scott pointed out, a concerned look on his face as Stiles continued to repeat that he liked Peter. "Just go home –"

"I can't go home!" Stiles cried on the verge of hysteria. "He'll be there!"

"So where are you going to go?" Scott asked, already regretting it when Stiles turned to him with wide pleading eyes.

"No," Scott said instantly.

"Please, we'll only talk to him for a minute," Stiles begged.

"What?" Scott had expected Stiles to hide at his house, which would normally be fine other than the fact he didn't really want Peter to go looking for him.

"Derek! He'll know what to do!" Stiles rolled his eyes, as if he was annoyed Scott didn't figure out his plan earlier.

"Why are we going to Derek?" Scott asked, hoping to convey just how much of a bad idea he thought this was. "He doesn't like us remember."

"He'll know what to do!" Stiles pointed out.

"Or he'll rip your throat out," Scott pointed out.

"He totally loves me," Stiles said automatically, even though it lacked the full sureness that Stiles would normally push into his words. It would be easy to pretend that Derek hadn't said anything. Although the fact he had broken into Stiles' room after the whole 'you aren't pack' incident was strange, Stiles wasn't sure what to make of it. He warned Stiles about Peter and perhaps it wasn't a good idea to mention Peter's date-y behaviour, who knows what Derek's reaction would be. Stiles didn't want a dead Peter again.

"I'm so fucked," Stiles groaned as Scott patted his back.

"It could be worse?" Scott said slowly, not sounding at all confident with his comforting words.

"How?" Stiles groaned.

Scott had no words to offer, no comforting 'you could be dying', or 'he could be trying to eat you' to soothe Stiles. Instead, the teen wolf just patted his back again and said his goodbye's claiming work related urgencies otherwise the mystic vet would fire him.

So, Stiles watched as Scott unlocked his bike and headed off, leaving him alone in the school parking lot. Stiles debated with himself for a second on the thought of still finding Derek to question him on Peter's motives. He stopped himself when he remembered that Peter wasn't exactly the _talkative_ type. It was unlikely that he would have divulged his intentions to his nephew and even _if_ he had, it was double unlikely that Derek would pass those intentions on.

Maybe Stiles was thinking too much into this. Sure, Peter's behaviour was concerning but it didn't seem to be leading anywhere, _right_? Even though Peter was doing things whilst he was in his wolf alter ego, it didn't mean he would as a human. Ergo, there was no need for Stiles to think too much on the subject. It isn't as though Peter would want a teenager. _Even if he had seemed to care_.

Stiles took a moment to knock his head against the frame of his jeep before climbing inside. He could do this. He was a big boy. He could handle a puppy who was a bit too close. A puppy who was also the man that Stiles _liked_. It wouldn't be an issue.

Maybe if he repeated it enough, that would start to sound believable.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Stiles paused outside of his room, he knew his heart was beating louder than normal. He knew that if Peter was beyond the door, he would know Stiles was nervous. The temptation to turn around and flee was strong but Stiles soldiered on. He _could_ do this. It was just puppy-Peter. He wasn't a threat – not as the wolf – not to Stiles.

Taking a breath, Stiles opened his door, exhaling when he saw Peter curled up on his bed. Stiles was hyper aware of the smile that made its way onto his face when he met Peter's eyes. He felt his cheeks heat up. He _couldn't_ do this.

Peter's gentle whine pulled Stiles out of his budding panic making him want to run. The man – _wolf_ sounded hurt. Forgetting his own concerns, Stiles bounded forward, eyebrows worried as he ran his hands over Peter's form, searching for any possible injuries.

"Are you ok? Did someone get you? Did you get shot?" the words fell instinctively as he frowned and felt around Peter's thick fur.

Peter's whines turned less pained and his tail thumped once against the bed.

Stiles frowned more when he didn't find any obvious injuries that could be plaguing the man. It didn't mean that he hadn't been poisoned – what if someone _had_ poisoned him? Stiles had no idea what to do in that case, was he even qualified on how to deal with poison, he knew how to deal with wolfsbane bullets, he had seen Derek do that. What if Peter was dying? What if he was going to die on Stiles' bed.

Knowing he probably shouldn't, even through his worried haze, Stiles found his hand curling into the fur and holding on to Peter, scared that the wolf would disappear. He should tell Peter. He should let Peter know that Stiles knows. He owes it to him before he dies.

Stiles felt Peter's muzzle press into his neck and it broke something inside of him. He pulled Peter closer, wrapping his arms around the wolf's neck and held him tight, trying to push everything he felt into the wolf. It wasn't fair.

Stiles could feel the panic building. He had pushed it off most of the day, trying to figure things out. He liked Peter a lot more than he should and there's a chance that he couldn't do anything. Stiles felt his breathing quicken, his frantic heart rate was only increasing. He knew Peter was trying to calm him as best he could and that made him feel horrible. If Peter was hurt… he shouldn't have to deal with Stiles panicking on top of what he was going through, yet Stiles couldn't pry himself away. He couldn't loosen his grip, he felt as though the world would crumble if he couldn't feel Peter's heat, or his breathing. Stiles wasn't sure if the pounding he could feel was his own pulse, or if he could feel Peter's, but it was quick. Everything was so blurry. Stiles couldn't focus on anything. The quiet noises Peter was making faded as Stiles let his eyes close, hoping that when he opened them again everything would be alright.


	14. Courting

Stiles sat up quickly. He felt lightheaded at the movement but he had more pressing things to worry about, like the fact he had no idea where Peter was. The wolf had always been next to him when he woke up and – _oh my god_ – _Peter could be really hurt_ –

"You seem to be rather emotional," a voice drawled from the door before Stiles could work himself up into another panic.

Stiles stared, not sure if he was hallucinating or not. His original thoughts of a psychotic episode returned, maybe he had imagined it all, and now – now _Peter_ – Peter was stood leaning against the wooden doorframe, a smirk on his lips as he watched Stiles scramble out of his bed.

If Stiles was really focusing, he would have noticed that the blankets had been pulled out from under him and placed over his form when he had undoubtedly passed out. His full attention was on the human-shaped werewolf. Stiles thought he had spent too much time with wolf Peter as he saw the concern dancing in Peter's eyes.

"What – what are you doing here?" Stiles' voice was raspy, it made him wonder just how bad his panic attack had been. It had been a while since one had caused him to pass out.

"I came to check on you," Peter said slowly.

Lie. Stiles knew it was a lie. In the beginning, he might have accepted it. He thought Peter _was_ checking on him. The longer the wolf had spent curled up in his bed made him doubt that. Peter had been up to more than just checking on him.

"Why?" Stiles asked, he let his eyes roam Peter's body, looking for hints of anything that could indicate just why Peter had been so distressed when he had gotten back. It didn't make sense. The wolf seemed hurt and now Peter was stood in front of him, in his own clothes, looking as good as every other day.

"You seemed distressed," Peter said, his tone hinting at him being bored. Stiles let his eyes narrow, he knew Peter was acting, he didn't know _why_. Well, he could guess that Peter had no idea Stiles knew he was the wolf, but to act like he still couldn't care about Stiles was a bit insulting.

"Well, I'm alive, you can go now," Stiles huffed. He didn't want Peter around if he was going to act like this, not after he had figured out that he felt more than just acceptance for the man.

"True," Peter agreed, his eyes not leaving Stiles. "You are alive. What caused you to pass out?"

"Who said I passed out?" Stiles asked with an eye roll. He knew that Peter knew the truth but if Peter wanted to pretend then Stiles wouldn't make it easy for him.

"I smelt it –"

"Dude, that's an invasion of privacy," Stiles snapped. He bit his cheek to stop himself smiling as Peter rolled his eyes.

"Did something happen?"

"Like what?" Stiles asked, trying his best not to panic again, or get nervous, or feel _anything_ that might give away that he had panicked because of Peter.

Stiles watched as Peter rolled his eyes again before turning on his heel and walking away from Stiles and down the stairs. The man didn't pause his footfalls at Stiles' startled shout or at the amount of noise he made when he rushed to follow.

"What are you doing?" Stiles yelled, rushing until he was right behind Peter on the stairs.

"You need sustenance," Peter said, as if the response was obvious and Stiles was dumb not to think of it. The simplicity of Peter's words hit Stiles, making his freeze as Peter continued and disappeared into the kitchen. Peter was – Stiles didn't even know what to think, was Peter seriously going to do what he –

The noise of the microwave starting made Stiles frown as he almost fell down the rest of the stairs in his haste to actually see the spectacle of what Peter was doing.

What he saw melted his brain. He had a flashback to finding the note under the bowl of food telling him to eat. Instead, he had the live version. He watched as Peter glared at the microwave with a harsh intensity, seeming to will it to heat faster under his stare. There were no visible dishes to be washed, it seemed that once again, whatever Peter did, he had cleaned after himself. It was strange to consider.

"Sit."

"What –"

Peter opened the microwave just before it began to beep, he glanced back, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. Clearly, Stiles didn't have full control over his brain just yet as he didn't even attempt to argue the eyebrow, he sat at the table, still watching Peter with a dumbfounded expression.

"Eat," Peter prompted, putting the plate of what looked like chicken in front of him.

Stiles stared at Peter, before glancing down to the food. He looked back at Peter. Part of him was concerned about possible poison, but then Peter wouldn't have a cuddle buddy, so it didn't seem likely unless he had found another human to snuggle with. Stiles slowly took the fork from the table, stabbing one of the bite-sized pieces – _had Peter cut up his food?_ – the surprised groan left his mouth the instant the food touched his tongue. Stiles refused to look up to see Peter's smug smirk, he could _feel_ the weight of it.

Stiles continued to eat, ignoring the way Peter was watching his every move. He felt as though his face could light up a room at the thought of Peter caring enough to make him food. What if Peter found out Stiles liked him? He would use it against him in some way.

"So," Stiles said, he took a moment to cough before he forced himself to continue. "Is this your way of wooing me?"

"Oh Stiles," Peter purred, and that tone did things to Stiles that he didn't want to admit. "Wooing is completely different."

Hoping the floor would open up to swallow him, Stiles asked, "How so?"

Peter tilted his head, watching Stiles more and his smirk grew when Stiles met his eyes. The boy's plate was mostly empty.

"You wouldn't have any doubt if I was courting you," Peter promised, delighting in the stuttering of Stiles' heart.

Stiles couldn't deal with this. He really wanted puppy-Peter back. At least then he wouldn't be teased to the point of having his newly-discovered-yet-still-hidden feelings figured out.

"On the subject of courting," Stiles said boldly, making a point to ignore how uncomfortable he felt with Peter watching him so _openly_. He watched as Peter's eyebrow raised further. "Is it different for werewolves?"

Stiles was shocked at Peter's chuckle.

"My my Stiles," the man said softly. "Are you planning on – how did you put it – _wooing_ a werewolf?"

Stiles considered throwing the fork at the man's condescending tone. So what if he was? Was that anything to do with Peter? Why did the man need to mock him? Stiles let himself consider it, he could stab Peter, the bastard would heal but it would be satisfying. The only thing that stopped him was Peter's amused eyes, no doubt picking up the annoyance in Stiles. Stiles forced himself to relax, to loosen his deathlike grip on the fork, he wouldn't get information without Peter.

"You never know when the information is useful," Stiles said, aiming for a casual dismissal of the question.

"Male or female?" Peter asked, his head tilted as he waited for Stiles' answer.

"What?" Stiles frowned.

"It's different for male and female wolves," Peter explained. "It's also different if it's a human courting the wolf or a wolf courting the wolf. If a wolf courts a human, it is their choice if they do things the human way or the wolf way."

Stiles nodded, quickly pulling his phone out and opening the voice memo app before hitting record. He ignored Peter's curiously amused look.

"Well, start with a wolf courting a wolf," Stiles requested.

Peter sighed loudly, as if the topic was one he didn't care about as he finally settled himself into one of the dining chairs. "Male wolves will hunt, bring back their kill and offer it to the person they're courting –"

"Like 'rawr, I am man. I can provide'?" Stiles asked, making claw hands as he 'roared'. He hoped that his attempt as clarifying would stop Peter realising just how much his breath had hitched, Peter had fed him, and Stiles _really_ hoped that the man hadn't killed whatever he had cooked because that was _too_ much.

Peter raised an eyebrow, Stiles half expected the man to stand and leave the room with the level of how unimpressed he was practically oozing.

"If you want to put it that way," he said simply, disappointing Stiles with the lack of a reaction. "Female wolves will show their intentions by providing a safe space, to raise a family."

"Like a den?" Stiles asked, remembering the few facts he remembered from actual wolves.

"Not a cave," Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

"I never said cave!" Stiles pointed out.

"Tradition faded as years passed but those two things stayed mostly, sometimes the female will hunt and bring back their kills and the male will build a den," Peter pointedly ignore Stiles pleased grin.

"Humans?" Stiles asked, unable to stop the joyful tone.

"It's slightly different since humans don't have the same instincts," Peter said calmly. "Wolves will still feel the need to provide for their potential partners. They'll want to make sure the human is protected and healthy," Stiles saw when Peter froze for a second before the man seemed to shake off whatever thought he had. "Humans will normally respond in their own way. Sometimes wolves will adopt human traditions, gift giving and such."

"What if a human wanted to court a wolf?" Stiles asked, his honest curiosity showing enough for him to ignore when Peter smirked again.

"If the human were in the know, so to speak, they should show how they would be able to provide for the wolf. Much like the female wolf role," Peter said, a teasing hint in his tone. "Make a den, maybe provide food when appropriate."

"You're fucking with me," Stiles said with a frown.

"Humans are predictable," Peter went on to say. "Wolves will more than likely know if one is interested. It is up to the wolf and the human to figure it out."

"So no set tradition?" Stiles asked.

"It wasn't often a human wanted to court a wolf," Peter pointed out. "Sane humans still wouldn't want to."

Ignore the intended provoking remark, Stiles continued on with his questions; "What happens after courting?" Stiles asked before he could think over his question. He promptly stuttered as he fumbled over an explanation; "No! Wait, I know what _happens_! But what – how – there are mate bonds… right? How – not the _sex_ –"

Peter felt the need to put Stiles out of his misery, even though the fact the boy had gotten so embarrassed was beyond endearing.

"If the courtship is accepted," Peter said, cutting Stiles' rambling off. "The two will step most of their time together. Sleeping together, touching, making sure their scents mix. Two wolves will spend the moon together in wolf form, they groom each other and so forth."

Stiles could picture it, two wolves walking close together, letting their bodies brush against each other under the moonlight. They would walk to somewhere private – maybe a _cave_ , then they would lay together, lazily grooming each other. Stiles could picture the two wolves curling up against each other and riding out the rest of the night, just the two of them. It made his heart ache.

"If they get along, they –" Peter paused. "If they plan to complete a mating bond, the two need to sexually compatible –"

"Can they not be?" Stiles interrupted, ignoring Peter's huff. "If they accept the courtship then why –"

"It was more of an issue back when population was important," Peter interrupted. "Breeding was important –"

"Dude!" Stiles groaned. "Don't call it 'breeding'!"

"It's what it was," Peter said with a shrug. "Typically, a mating bond should be completed during the next full moon, but that tradition has fallen from practice with the more _eager_ pairs. More scent marking," Peter said with a wave of his hand. "Lots of physical contact, until the actual mating happens. I'm sure you don't need an explanation of that," Peter ended with a smirk at Stiles heart beating slightly faster.

"Sex, got it," Stiles nodded.

"Very good," Peter praised somewhat condescendingly. "After mating, it's very difficult for that bond to break. Mated pairs should stay together, their scents should be mixed and time without their mate tends to lead to feral behaviour," Peter explained. "If a wolf loses their mate, they can have relationships with another, but the intensity of the bond will never be as strong as their first mate."

"What if one of them isn't a werewolf is it rare for them to mate?" Stiles asked, glancing down to his phone to make sure the conversation was still being recorded. The notes he would get from this would be really good.

"I am honestly intrigued as to why you want to know," Peter said.

"Curious."

"Normally, after a courting, the human will receive the bite. If they chose not to, I'm sure the bond would still form but I doubt it would be as fulfilling to either party. I don't know much about it since it's not a common thing to enquire about. Bonds are very private after all," Peter pointed out. "Humans are… how to say it – _delicate_ , we wouldn't want to seriously injure out mate when completing the bond."

Stiles felt his mouth dry. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know how they would be injured, but for the purpose of the notes.

"How – how would –"

Peter leant forward, his grin devilish. "Male wolves can be rather brutal if they aren't in complete control," he said, not hiding anything back. "It is difficult for one to keep control when completing such an intense physical bond."

Stiles knew he shouldn't. He couldn't help it. He imagined just how it would be to be so close to _someone_ , how it would be to watch them lose control in front of them. He wasn't stupid, Stiles knew that the mating bonds were typically completed during intercourse, he could _see_ a wolf staring him in the eyes, their bright blue eyes shining in the dim light as they growled. Stiles couldn't stop the shiver as he licked his lips. He was fucked.


	15. A Shower Thought

Peter didn't stay long after they finished their conversation on mating. Stiles had gone up to his room, laid on the bed and breathed in the scent of Peter. He thought over everything the man had said. Also the fact the man seemed healthy, no possible poisoning.

Peter had made him food again. Both times it had happened had been when Stiles had needed to eat, when he was not in a position to provide it for himself. In a way, that was Peter ensuring that Stiles was healthy. That realisation made Stiles feel warm. Peter seemed to truly _care_ and some part of Stiles soaked in that revelation.

Looking around his room, Stiles also realised that he had been providing for Peter. He had found himself with double the number of blankets on his bed, in anticipation of the wolf being curled among them when he was gone. He had even found himself leaving books on the bedside table when he had found evidence of them being moved one day after Peter had visited. How had he not realised? Did Peter realise?

What's worse, he had pictured Peter losing control mid-bonding with Stiles. That had been a shock, it was so much easier to pretend that it was some else in his mind but he _knew_. There was no other wolf that he would consider. Scott was going to kill him. It was one thing to _like_ the man but to consider mating… even as a brief fantasy was more than a passing crush. Thinking over that brief _passing_ thought of Peter made him harden. It was getting more and more difficult for Stiles to pass off what he thought about Peter and that was a terrifying thing.

He couldn't get Peter's devilish smirk out of his mind, nor how the man had leant forward over the table towards him. Stiles let his hand wander down to his crotch, pressing against the fabric.

Stiles heard a soft thump, he sat up, rolling his eyes when he saw puppy-Peter. Luckily, Stiles had left his window open, otherwise who knew what would have happened. He laid back down, not bothering to invite the wolf up, he knew that Peter would just pounce anyway.

It didn't occur to Stiles to consider how he smelt, therefore, Peter's hesitant approach slightly threw him. When he turned his attention back to Peter, Stiles found the wolf inching closer, his body lowered to the floor. Without thinking, Stiles reached out towards Peter, confused at the wolf's behaviour.

As though he had been waiting, Peter moved almost blurringly fast as he pressed his nose against Stiles' hand, a noise unlike any other leaving his throat. It was low, _not threatening_ , but there was _something_ in it. He could feel Peter's heavy breath against his hand and it only confused Stiles more. He didn't understand what Peter was doing.

Stiles sat up, swinging his legs over the bed, preparing himself to move closer when Peter's nose pressed against his crotch. Stiles' breath caught in this throat as his heart froze for a beat. The hand he had offered to Peter was the one that he had pressed against himself. Unconsciously, Stiles let his hips jerk slightly and his hand tangle in the fur. Almost as soon as he had that automatic reaction, he had wrenched himself away.

Peter whined, moving so his head was laid on Stiles' thigh, his nose uncomfortably close. Stiles tried to repress the shiver of desire that went through him. It felt wrong, he shouldn't be having this reaction to Peter, especially not when he was fluffy. It wasn't _normal_. Even though Stiles could only just count the number of times on both his hands that he ever fit that category.

Peter's next whine pulled Stiles back to the present events, what Stiles really wanted to do was wrap a hand around his cock. Yet with Peter so close he couldn't. Stiles considered kicking the wolf out, telling him to come back later but that felt wrong. He didn't want Peter to leave, even if he didn't completely want him to stay.

It would be so easy to pretend that the wolf wasn't the man that sat downstairs with him an hour ago, to discuss mating. It would be so easy to pretend that Peter wasn't intelligent to know just what Stiles would be doing if he kicked him out. There would be no hiding what he was going to do, especially with Peter's muzzle so close to his aching cock.

Stiles pushed Peter's head away gently, patting the bed next to him. He ran his hand down the wolf's back when he jumped up and laid down on the blanket.

"I'm going to shower," Stiles said, knowing that it was partly a lie and Peter would know. "I shouldn't be too long. If you want to leave you can," he offered. Peter could easily imagine Peter's raised eyebrow, almost mocking him. He could almost _hear_ Peter asking why would he possibly want to leave when Stiles showered, which did nothing to help his growing desperation.

Without another word, Stiles grabbed a few clothes and left the room. He didn't look behind him to see if Peter left, he would rather not know, especially with what he planned to do. It would be easier to pretend the wolf left, rather than looking back and seeing the too intelligent eyes watching back knowingly.

Stiles turned the shower on, double checking that he had closed the door behind him. He ran a shaky hand over his face. He had no idea what had just happened. He didn't know why Peter had reacted the way he did. Why did the wolf lower himself? Why did he –

Stiles shook his head, stopping the thoughts getting too out of hand. He shouldn't take long. Not when he knew Peter was in hearing range. He could panic about it later.

Stiles fumbled with his clothing, slowly peeling them off of his body before stepping into the shower. The water was warm, enough so that it helped him relax. Stiles held back on the groan as the tension left his body, one hand working its way down his stomach. He wondered if Peter was paying attention to him, if Peter had been sane of mind when he had bound up to Stiles.

Stiles bit his lip as he moved his hand slowly over his cock, he didn't want to make too much noise with Peter so close. If the man was listening, there would be no question about what Stiles was doing, surely he would hear the accelerated heart rate, the faster breathing, the quiet noises that Stiles would try to smoother.

Stiles shivered at the thought of Peter listening, he groaned, giving up on being quiet as he worked his hand over his cock, Peter would know either way. The movements were slow and steady as he let his head fall back against the wall. He wondered if Peter was still in his bed, part of Stiles wanted to go back and check if Peter was still around, or if he had left.

Stiles moaned deeper as he pictured Peter sat on his bed, head tilted slightly to hear better. He could see the smirk Peter would wear, he wondered if the man would be satisfied by just listening or whether it would leave him hard and wanting more.

Stiles wanted Peter in front of him, watching as his hand moved over his cock, smirking with that evil glint in his eye as he watched Stiles move his hand faster. His breath came in small gasps as his hips jerked to meet his hand. He wanted Peter, just the thought of the man watching him made his blood boil with need. He was torn between wanting Peter to watch, and wanting Peter to touch him. He could imagine how controlling Peter would be, holding his hips still as he struggled to move. Stiles imagined Peter leaning forward on his knees, his hands keeping him motionless as he licked a stripe up his twitching cock.

Stiles moaned again, losing himself in the fantasy, he would grip Peter's hair, trying to coax the man to take him into his mouth. He knew Peter wouldn't, he would lean further back, smirk up at Stiles until he began to beg. As soon as he started, Peter would take his cock into his mouth, cutting off Stiles' words, turning him into a puddle of goo, held up only by the werewolves hands. Peter would keep his pace slow, a stark contrast of what Stiles was actually doing.

He was so close. He just needed something more. His pleas would have started again, asking Peter to go faster, to let him move his hips, he wanted to fuck the smirk off of Peter's lips. He wanted Peter to taste him for hours afterwards. He wanted everyone else to know what he had done. He wanted to mark Peter - and it was with the thought of covering Peter's face in his cum that Stiles cursed into his orgasm.

He slowly sunk down in the shower, his legs feeling somewhat unsteady as he tried to catch his breath.


	16. Doubts

Stiles hesitated briefly before pushing the door completely open, he heard his own heart race in his ears as he met Peter's eyes. He regretted not finding something else to do to keep him away for a while longer. He could have started on the laundry, or done the dishes, or even cleaned the whole house in the hopes that Peter would have forgotten or just had left.

Peter lifted his head to look at Stiles and his mouth opened. The wolf's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he tilted his head. Stiles knew that Peter could hear the heavy beating of his heart. Stiles was slightly concerned that he smelt of his faded arousal and his semen. He had spent the last five minutes of his shower with the water hot as he scrubbed at his body, hoping to remove the scent as much as he could.

Peter woofed.

"Calm yourself," Stiles said with a roll of his eyes. He lost the tension he had been carrying in his body as he worried. Peter didn't seem to be jumping to condemn him for what he did. Nor did he seem to be pouncing on Stiles like he wanted and dreaded.

Shaking his head at his own stupid-ness, Stiles moved to his closet, pulling out one of the extra blankets he had forgotten to throw on the bed. He didn't bat an eyelid as he threw the blanket over Peter, smiling when he wriggled his body around until his head had popped out from underneath before huffing at Stiles.

"Stop getting my bed covered in fur," Stiles smirked, anticipating Peter's next move. Almost on command, Peter rolled around, looking at Stiles as if to dare him to say something else.

"Pest," Stiles snapped fondly, giving in to the urge to curl up in the bed against Peter's body. It was a too familiar feeling that Stiles wanted to ignore. Instead, he let himself give in and climb under the blankets Peter had managed to wrap around him.

The two of them wriggled around to get comfy, Stiles settling on wrapping his arm around Peter's body. Peter, in turn, buried his nose against Stiles' wrist. Stiles could feel the puffs of air as Peter took deep breaths and it wasn't long until his nose had found its way passed his wrist and against his hand, the same one that he had wrapped around himself.

Stiles couldn't hold back the thrill of desire that ran through him at the thought of Peter clearly scenting him and breathing in the traces of his private activities, even if Stiles _had_ tried his best to cover it up. The small pool of lust that had built in Stiles almost exploded when he felt Peter's tongue against his hand, flicking between the boy's fingers, almost _searching_ for something.

"You're such a pervert," Stiles muttered. He knew that his words lacked any real heat. He knew that Peter could see through the unaffected façade that Stiles was desperately trying to portray.

Stiles moved his body back, putting some space between his front and Peter's back so the wolf couldn't feel how affected he was over such a simple action. It didn't occur to Stiles to do more than that, knowing that Peter would be able to clearly smell how aroused he was.

Instead of letting Stiles have that small freedom of space, Peter wriggled his body backwards until he was once again flush with Stiles' front. A needy whine escaping him as he did so.

" _Fuck_ ," Stiles groaned, trying to hide his face in Peter's fur. It was wrong, he shouldn't be as aroused as he was. He shouldn't want to rut against Peter. The feeling of fur pressed against his skin shouldn't excite him even more. If Stiles were being honest, he knew that the fact it was _Peter_ should send him running and destroy any lust be held.

"St – stop," Stiles muttered. "Sleep," he offered, he knew that Peter didn't buy it, not with how Stiles' hips had been jerking momentarily before he had forced himself to stop. Stiles had a passing thought of turning so he was laid on his back before wrapping his hand around his cock again. Only, Peter would be much closer than a room or two away.

Peter whined.

"We shouldn't," Stiles said softly. His arm wrapped tighter around Peter, petting at the fur on the wolf's stomach. "You're in wolf form," he pointed out, knowing that his heart had sped up. He could tell by the way Peter had froze and sunk back against Stiles. Stiles just hoped that Peter didn't know _why_ that fact made such an impact on him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"I'm so fucked," Stiles groaned, not gaining any comfort from Scott's pitiful pats on his back.

"It's ok, you can…. _get him_ ," Scott said, the last two words coming out strained as he tried his best to help his friend.

"Don't sound so disgusted," Stiles snorted into the table.

"You just told me – you said –" Scott spluttered, not wanting to repeat just _what_ Stiles has confessed.

"Stilinski," Erica called, prompting Stiles to raise his head. Erica was stood next to the table, Isaac and Boyd flanking her.

"Mutts," Stiles said shortly, not wanting to deal with another 'you're not pack' moment.

"Derek had a message," Isaac said stiffly.

Scott had tensed next to Stiles, sending concerned looks to his friend.

"What was it?" Stiles asked, hoping that they would leave sooner if they said what they needed to.

"You can't trust Peter," Boyd said, his tone soothing. "There's a chance he's working with the Alpha pack."

Stiles forcefully holds back the scathing remark, he knew that they were wrong. There was no chance that Peter was doing such a thing, he didn't have the time to.

"Although you might know all about his plans with how often you're bending over for him," Isaac sneered.

Scott growled, stopping when Stiles kicked him for drawing the attention of the cafeteria.

"Don't talk about him like that," Scott threatened.

"Enough," Stiles said sharply. He turned his attention fully to Isaac, delighting in how the other boy shrunk back slightly. "Peter isn't doing anything bad."

"Why? Because he _likes_ you?" Isaac asked.

Stiles refused to respond, instead, he turned to Boyd, the least frustrating of the three Beta's.

"Derek hasn't seen Peter in a while," the boy said. "He's caught his scent around the Alpha's."

"Ok," Stiles nodded. "I can assure you that Peter is no threat," Stiles said surely.

"Why is he even hanging around you?" Erica asked.

"Why does it matter?" Scott snapped.

"He's clearly planning something," Isaac pointed out. "Why is he hanging around the token human? What is it that Stiles offers, he made up some bullshit about him being an anchor but that isn't true. So what does he want from him?"

Stiles clenched his jaw, growing more annoyed as Isaac talked over him. He was acting as though Stiles was nothing more than a child who didn't know anything or understood anything. The fact he had spoken to Scott as if _he_ owned him was doubly insulting.

"Leave," Stiles growled, focusing on Isaac, and not noticing how the other wolves all froze and stared at Stiles. The boy's voice had been low, more so than should be possible for a human. Scott couldn't see, but Boyd raised his eyebrows at how Stiles' eyes darkened when he spoke.

"He's planning something," Isaac said, his bravado fading. "Derek's told us all about _him_. He's going to use you. Call us when he's fucked you for the last time and maybe we can make you feel better."

"Dude," Scott hissed as the three Beta's left. "How did you do that?" Stiles looked down where Scott had gestured. In his hand, under his tight grasp, was a bent fork.

"I – what?" Stiles asked, confused as he looked from the metal fork to Scott. His anger had faded. "When –"

"You bent the fork," Scott hissed. "How?"

"I didn't," Stiles said softly. He needed to talk to Peter. He had to make sure that the man wasn't planning on doing anything. He wanted to prove Derek wrong.


	17. Change Back

"You should probably change back Peter, we should talk," Stiles said upon seeing the brown wolf on his bed.

If Stiles were in a better mood, he may have enjoyed the shocked expression and posture of the wolf. The fact that he had frozen like prey under the gaze of its predator. The fact that Peter had clearly taken to heart Stiles' threat and was tangled among the bedsheets once again. Still, Stiles could not enjoy any of that. He needed answers, just to stop the pack's voice echoing in his head.

Stiles watched in fascination as Peter stretched out and shifted back into a human. The fur receding into his skin, his limbs growing and his face shrinking and changing human-like.

"You knew it was me," Peter remarked slightly breathlessly, moving the blankets slightly to make sure they covered his lower body.

"For a while," Stiles agreed.

"Interesting." The werewolf didn't offer anything more, only choosing to stare at Stiles in something akin to wonder as Stiles stared back steely.

"What's your plan?" Stiles asked, not following his gut that wanted to know what was interesting.

"Who says I have a plan?" Peter asked amused, letting his super werewolf mask take over.

"Just – just answer," Stiles tried to say firmly, he hated that Peter was suddenly hiding a part of himself but he knew that Peter wouldn't tell him anything that he didn't want to. Stiles knew that it was partly his own fault for forcing Peter to change back and reveal himself before he was ready.

"Stiles," Peter said softly. "You're the smart one, not the rest of the wolves."

Stiles drew in a shaky breath. He should have remembered that Peter would be able to smell them as much as they could smell him.

"Now, come here and ask what you _really_ want to know," he offered, patting the bed next to him.

"It's _my_ bed asshole," Stiles grumbled as he moved closer. He made a point of not acknowledging how likely it was that Peter was laid naked in his bed.

"It smells more like mine," Peter mused. "Well," he added. "It smells like _ours_."

"Fuck you," Stiles muttered, sitting on the bed.

"You can do if you want," Peter said cheekily, causing Stiles to yelp as he pulled the boy closer to him. "Lay down."

"I'm not the one that turns into a dog," Stiles huffed, complying with what Peter wanted. Soon, he was laid on his back, with Peter by his side doing the same.

"So…" Stiles said, drawing the word out as he stared at the ceiling. "Why did you come here?"

"The first time?" Peter asked, letting his eyes fall to the boy next to him. He saw Stiles nod, still not looking from the ceiling, even as Peter spoke more. "The pull of the moon was… a lot," he admitted. "I felt like a teenager again," he added with a gentle smile. "Being back, it was hard to keep control, especially with it being a full moon."

"But why here?" Stiles asked, finally pulling his gaze from the pattern to look at Peter.

"I needed somewhere safe," Peter said. "I don't know why – my wolf was – it _is_ drawn to you," Peter spoke softly. "It's harder to recall what happened that first night, I remember waiting. You weren't here, it took a lot not to try and find you."

Stiles looked away again, remembering the night that Peter had returned, the lacrosse game, being taken.

"I was regaining my sanity when you returned," Peter murmured. "If you had been longer –" he shook his head, pushing the thought of Stiles being alone and in pain away from his mind. "When you – I couldn't leave. I could smell the pain. I could smell them," he added with a growl.

Without considering the consequences of his actions, Stiles took hold of Peter's hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

"When I saw how much damage they did –"

"You went all growly," Stiles pointed out, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

"Indeed," Peter drawled. "To which you called me a dog."

Stiles snorted, not even having to look at Peter to know that he had arched an eyebrow and was looking at Stiles with an amused smirk.

"You acted like one."

"And you took me in without a second thought," Peter pointed out.

"I thought about it!" Stiles protested.

"Now, now," Peter sighed, pulling Stiles closer to him. "You've done many things but I doubt you've thought about them."

"Don't," Stiles groaned, his face reddening. Stiles tried not to think about how Peter was _naked_ in his bed.

"What else do you want to know?" Peter prompted gently.

"I – I don't – there is so much," Stiles whined. "Why don't you join the pack? Did they offer you a place? Why did you keep coming back? Why did it seem like you cared? Why –?"

Stiles fell silent as Peter's hand fell over his mouth.

"One at a time please," Peter requested, the amused glint back in his eyes. "I do not want a place in Derek's pack," he said seriously. "If I were offered one, I would let him know. However, I think it is safe to say that won't happen. Why I came back?" Peter hummed as he thought.

"Other than my shining personality," Stiles joked.

"Your personality is certainly one reason," Peter said, his tone still serious, which confused Stiles. "You intrigue me," Peter said, seeing Stiles' confusion. "You have done ever since you were on the phone to Derek searching for me."

"That's kind of creepy dude," Stiles said weakly, unsure how to feel.

"They shouldn't have left you alone," Peter pointed out. "In the beginning, I returned to learn more about you," he said nonchalantly. "Then it was to ensure your safety, you were deserted when there was a threat. That is part of the reason I refused to be aligned to the group that tries to pass as a pack. Threats should _never_ be left to grow," Peter growled.

Stiles rubbed circles on the back of Peter's hand. His eyes fell to the man's chest and he took in a shaky breath. Peter was muscular, which wasn't a surprise but it did nothing to keep Stiles calm and thinking clean thoughts.

"Who's been following me?" Stiles asked suddenly, Peter was _human_ and he could answer that question now.

"A member of the Alpha pack –"

"I knew it!" Stiles gasped, sitting up quickly. "I knew you were just following them and not working –" he snapped his mouth shut as Peter's annoyed look.

"Who said I was working with them?" he growled, the sound causing a pool of warmth to fill Stiles' stomach.

"It – they just thought it," Stiles said, hoping that they both could ignore what was happening.

All of a sudden, Stiles found himself laid flat on his back. Peter looming over him, blanket pressed between them as Peter moved his face barely an inch away from Stiles' cheek.

"Tell me Stiles," the man purred. "Did you think they were right?"

Stiles failed to fight back the shiver at Peter's low tone. He gripped the sheets beneath him, refusing to give into temptation and wrap a hand in Peter's hair and forcing their mouths together.

"Peter…" it was barely a whisper, more of a plea that escaped his throat. Peter's answering rumble made Stiles' back arch towards him.

"Did you know?" Peter asked, his voice soft and quiet as he nuzzled into Stiles. "Did you know it was me when you were moaning my name? Did you wait until I was here until you ran to the shower, and made yourself sound so appealing that I wanted to drag you back to the bed and ravish you?"

Stiles couldn't stop the moan at the words Peter uttered, his back arched towards Peter, seeling what little distance was between them.

"You must know how difficult it was for me to just stay here and listen to all the little noises you made," Peter purred, taking his time to scent Stiles. He purposely nuzzled against Stiles' neck, a pleased rumble leaving him when Stiles tilted his head to give the werewolf more access. "You called my name," Peter whispered, as if it was a secret he didn't want anyone else to hear.

Stiles gasped, not aware that he had spoken aloud. There was a moment of panic that ran through Stiles at the possibility of just _what_ he had said along with Peter's name. The panic did not last long as Peter nipped his neck, drawing a low moan from Stiles.

"Then you came back and smelt so delicious –"

"Are you just going to talk?" Stiles asked, somewhat breathlessly.

"Would you rather I do something else?" Peter asked, pulling back so he could see Stiles and so Stiles could clearly witness the raising of his eyebrow.

"Dick," Stiles muttered, moving a hand to Peter's neck and pulling the man down for a kiss. Stiles smirked against Peter's lips as the man let him take control of the kiss. It wasn't soft and gentle, instead, Stiles made it as needy as he could. He bit Peter's lip, let his tongue explore and urged Peter to press even more against him.

The two of them groaned, one of Stiles' legs moving to wrap around Peter as they rocked their hips against each other. The blanket and Stiles' clothes being the only thing separating them. A small portion of Stiles' mind was thankful that he wasn't the only one painfully hard, nor was he the only one letting his hips jerk.

Stiles couldn't quite get the leverage he needed from where he laid. Realising that, he let out a growl, the sound muffled by Peter's mouth but it seemed to convey his annoyance as Peter huffed his own laughter into Stiles' mouth. Stiles bit Peter's lip in retaliation, letting another growl slip as Peter pulled away, amusement shining so clearly in his eyes as he ran his tongue over the imprint of Stiles' teeth.

"You would be such a ferocious wolf," Peter purred.

Stiles snarled, not thinking before flipping Peter onto his back and straddling him and holding his shoulders down against the bed. Peter's eyes flashed blue as Stiles smirked again, leaning down and biting into Peter's shoulder. Peter's groan of pleasure sent a wave of second-hand pleasure through him. Peter gripped Stiles' hips, the pressure hard enough to leave bruises.

Stiles moved his mouth from Peter's shoulder and began to bite and suck at the man's neck, aiming to leave fading bruises on the skin. Just as Stiles had bared his neck, Peter was doing the same as Stiles made his mark.

Peter, on a hunch, let his claws out, slipped his hands under Stiles' t-shirt. Slowly bunching the top up, Peter let his claws rake up Stiles' sides, making the boy shudder against him.

"You are much too clothed," Peter muttered.

"Dick," Stiles chuckled, pushing himself up and pulling his top off. "You shouldn't be able to use such words."

"You just need to do a little more," Peter shot back, no bite to his words as Stiles drug his own nails down Peter's chest.

"Do you ever shut up?" Stiles groaned before pressing his lips back against Peter's, pulling on the man's hair as blunt _human_ hands ran over his bare skin. One moved up to Stiles' neck, holding the boy in place as Peter battled for dominance of the kiss as the other ran downwards and squeezed Stiles' ass, pressing him against his crotch and urging Stiles to move against him.

Peter heard Stiles' heart pick up pace, the boy's breath quickened and their kiss became less of a kiss and more of the two panting into each other's mouths. Stiles' hips began to move even more jerkily as Peter thrust up to meet him. He knew that Stiles was getting close, and whilst he wanted to let Stiles finish however he wanted to. He also wanted to _see_ Stiles come undone, which he couldn't do with Stiles' forehead pressed against his own.

Stiles whined, high pitched and needy when Peter stilled him. The sound, as well as Stiles snapping his eyes open and locking them onto Peter's electric blue ones, _almost_ made the werewolf let go of him. Peter felt the need to bare his neck once again when he looked into Stiles' dark eyes, his own movements stopping mid-thrust as his whine mixed with Stiles'. It took a second before Peter came back to himself and pushed Stiles back into an upright position.

"Mark me," Peter whined, his tone close to a plea. Stiles' eyes turned from dark to intense as if a switch flipped, one of his hands scrambled to his jogging bottoms, pushing the fabric down and pulling his cock free. The strength and power that Stiles seemed to ooze in that moment ate at Peter, he pulled Stiles up his body slightly, moving him so he was straddled across his stomach. He _needed_ to be covered in the boy's scent.

Stiles hissed, his cock sensitive and angry at being denied for so long. His head fell back when his hand wrapped around himself, he could feel Peter watching him, even though his eyes were closed. He could feel the way Peter's eyes alternated between his face and his cock, pausing momentarily to watch his chest rise as he panted.

Having the man before him was so much more than Stiles had considered. The heat of his body, the rise of his chest, the hands on his hips. It all brought Stiles even closer to his orgasm. Stiles was barely moving his hand, letting himself fuck into his fist with jerky motions and Peter held him steady, keeping him upright.

Stiles didn't know if he was saying anything. He didn't know if he was moaning. Stiles didn't know if the only sounds he was making were the harsh pants of his breath. He knew that Peter heard it all though. He knew that Peter heard the way his blood pumped around his body, the way that his cock had leaked so much that there were soft slick sounds as his hand moved faster. Peter could hear it all, he knew exactly what he was doing to Stiles. Yet, when Stiles opened his eyes, he saw no power in the man's face. He saw anything _but_ power in the way that Peter was watching him. It was that moment that Stiles knew he wasn't the only one affected this much, Peter wanted him.

"Come on Stiles," Peter growled, "mark me." The challenge was issued with a flash of his supernatural blue eyes.

Annoyance flooded Stiles at the demand, he didn't want the moment over, although he couldn't stop that tightly wound coil from snapping. He wanted to give Peter what he wanted. Stiles watched in fascination as ropes of cum landed on Peter's chest, he was unable to focus on anything else other than Peter. The man seemed content, his eyes falling closed once Stiles had finished. Stiles didn't take note of how his own body had shook from his orgasm, nor how Peter had tightened his hold on him to keep him upright.

Stiles reached forward, running a finger through the cum on Peter's chest before bringing it to the man's lips. Stiles watched, mouth agape as Peter licked the finger clean, his chest rumbling.

Suddenly filled with an overwhelming need, Stiles wriggled backwards until he was settled between Peter's spread thighs. He ran a hand over Peter's cock, watching as the man sharply inhaled and bucked his hips. Stiles licked his lips, he needed Peter. Leaning forward, Stiles wrapped his hand around Peter's cock and slowly engulfed the head of it in his mouth. It was hot, and Stiles could feel the weight of it along with the taste of pre-cum.

Peter's hand made its way onto Stiles' face, caressing the boy's cheek as he bobbed his head slightly, letting his hand rub and work the rest of what wasn't in his mouth. Peter listened as Stiles made soft, quiet noises in the back of his throat.

It didn't take long before Peter was moaning, trying to hold back the urge to rock further into Stiles' mouth. Instead, he settled for gripping the blankets beneath him and throwing his head back with his eyes tightly closed.

The first shot of cum took Stiles by surprise, causing the boy to jerk back. Realising just what he did, Stiles worked his hand faster over Peter's cock. Swallowing what had hit the back of his throat, Stiles quickly cover the head of Peter's cock with his mouth again, letting the man finish there.

Stiles had barely finished swallowing the last of Peter's cum when the man had pulled him up and crashed their lips together in another frenzied kiss.


	18. What Just Happened?

"What just happened?" Stiles asked, still slightly breathless from the frenzied kiss.

"I was about to ask the same," Peter drawled, pulling Stiles closer once again. He had rearranged the two of them until they were laid on their sides facing one another. "You managed to move me," Peter pointed out, letting his lips brush against Stiles' briefly. "I submitted," he added, barely audible.

Stiles shivered at the implications. He didn't know _why_ Peter had submitted to him. He didn't even realise that flipping the two of them was something he should be unable to do. He leant into Peter's touch as the man brushed his thumb under Stiles' eye, a purr-like rumble leaving his chest.

"I can feel you," Peter said softly, almost hesitant to admit the words.

"That's not possible," Stiles frowned.

"I felt you ever since I met you, since you spoke your first words to me. I assumed - I thought it was because of Scott."

"But you're not an Alpha now," Stiles pointed out, pulling Peter's hand away from his face and lacing their fingers together.

" _I'm_ not," Peter agreed. "I shouldn't still feel you."

"Why do you?" Stiles asked gently, not sure why his heart had suddenly increased. The anxiety he felt building in his chest wasn't solely his own.

"I don't know," Peter admitted. "I will find out," he vowed.

"I - I did something today," Stiles said softly. "I don't know if it's related but it was weird..." he waited until Peter met his eyes. "I bent a fork, a metal one. One I shouldn't have been able to bend..." Stiles trailed off as Peter narrowed his eyes in thought.

"That's..."

"I know," Stiles agreed.

"You continuously amaze me," Peter remarked, pulling his hand free from Stiles' and moving it to the boy's waist.

"Why did that just happen?" Stiles asked, his breath stuttering as Peter traced patterns on the bare skin.

"You've been teasing me for a long time," Peter said in his lower tone. "Smelling so delectable..." Peter shuffled closer and buried his face into Stiles' neck. "It's a wonder one of the other's didn't claim you as their own."

"Jesus man," Stiles whimpered. "I am not a piece of meat. I don't need no man."

"I know that darling," Peter cooed. "You are mine now though," he added, pressing a nip to the flesh of Stiles' neck.

Something changed in Stiles' body language, no longer was he willingly pressing towards Peter. He laid stiff, not sure why the words had such an odd effect on him. It wasn't until Peter went to press another bite to his skin that the snarl left him. He pushed the wolf back, so he was not in teeth distance, a hand gripping the man's upper arm tightly.

"I am not something to be owned," he hissed. "Do you understand?" Stiles watched as Peter shivered under his gaze, his eyes dropping.

On a small hunch, Peter tilted his head, his eyes still averted as he did so. A startled breath passed his lips when Stiles' mouth was instantly at his neck. It was nothing like what had just happened, no longer was there a pleasurable feeling, instead, Peter stayed still, waiting with baited breath.

Stiles reared back as soon as he heard Peter's whine, not knowing what had just happened.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed, running a hand over his short hair as he pretty much threw himself from the bed. "What did - what - NO!" Stiles snapped when Peter sat up, no doubt going to comfort Stiles. "I could have hurt you!"

"You wouldn't have," Peter said surely. "I shouldn't have done anything to challenge you -"

"What?" Stiles asked, slightly hysterically. Without considering the consequences, Peter rushed over to Stiles, ignoring the protest and his own nudity.

"Try to stay calm," Peter said quietly. "Strong emotions will only make it happen faster."

"What is happening?" Stiles asked, his eyes wide as he fell into Peter's arms.

"You are - you are showing signs of a soon-to-be Alpha," Peter said calmly. "It shouldn't be possible, but you have always been one to surprise," Peter finishing with a wry smile.

"That isn't -"

"Tomorrow," Peter said firmly, interrupting Stiles. "Tomorrow, we will talk to Deaton, he might know what is happening. Until then, you need to stay calm. Try not to get angry."

Stiles shook his head, not quite believing what Peter was saying. It wasn't possible.

"It's ok," Peter soothed. "I'm here, I'm yours."

Unexplainably, those words did more than just soothe the worry in Stiles' mind. They relaxed his whole body. He knew that Peter was telling the truth, the wolf _was_ his, in some bizarre way. Peter would be his until they both made it stop.

"Not tomorrow," Stiles finally said. "We go now. I - _we_ ," he added. "Need to know what is happening. A threat should not be left to grow."

"You are not a threat," Peter growled.

"We make sure of it," Stiles said firmly.

Peter frowned at Stiles. It had been all he had done since the boy had demanded he find clothes or stay behind. The wolf had continued to grumble his protests when Stiles had marched to his jeep, his body fully clothed once again. Stiles refused to listen to a single word as he drove. He ignored Peter, not looking over, or speaking to him. By the end of the journey, the man was pouting and glaring over to Stiles as though he had been denied his favourite toy.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted, his voice slightly muffled by the glass window. The boy waved and grinned, only to stare open mouthed when he spotted Peter climbing from the jeep's passenger door.

The two made their way into the vet's office, thankful that the area was empty.

"Oh my god," Scott groaned as soon as they had entered. He blanched and gagged as he stared wide-eyed at Stiles. "You reek! Oh my god!"

"Shut up!" Stiles groaned as he reached over and hit Scott's arm. He knew that Peter was smirking at the scene.

"Did you shower at all?" Scott questioned, the disgusted tone still evident in his voice and his face. "I didn't actually mean _get him_!"

"You could stop smelling me," he pointed out as he rolled his eyes.

"I can't just turn my nose off!"

"We barely did _anything_!" Stiles laughed. "Listen! Peter –"

"DUDE! NO!" Scott yelped, covering his ears. He turned away from Stiles as the other boy began to laugh.

"He looks _so_ good naked!" Stiles managed to gasp through his laughter as Scott screeched.

"I hate you!" Scott had yelled as he retreated back into one of the back rooms of the building.

"I thought I heard someone," Deaton said calmly as he made his way over. "What brings the two of you here? I wasn't aware of any disturbances with the pack."

"This is a slightly... discrete meeting," Peter said carefully. "I would rather it not leave this building."

Deaton regarded Peter for a second before moving his gaze to Stiles. He nodded once, before turning and leading them through to his office.

"What has happened?" Deaton asked as soon as the door closed.

"Stiles," Peter offered.

"I thought as much," Deaton nodded. "He has a difference in his energy."

"My energy?" Stiles repeated, skeptical.

"Stiles, do you recall what I said when I gave you the mountain ash?" Deaton asked.

"That I needed to be a spark," Stiles said with a frown.

"Indeed," Deaton nodded. "How far did you take that?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, already annoyed with the less than helpful nature of the vet.

" _Some_ have greatness available to them. Belief and will can cause amazing things, truly _remarkable_ things," Deaton stressed. "Have you had any changes in your beliefs? Ones that may explain the differences you have noticed?"

"Like what?" Stiles growled.

"Did you believe you could become an Alpha?" Peter asked softly.

"You said it yourself, it's not possible!" Stiles pointed out, frustrated. "There was nothing in the book. Nothing to suggest that bonds could form outside of werewolves."

"Stiles," Deaton said. "What has occurred when these... symptoms that are so concerning to you have arisen?"

"He was frustrated with me," Peter said when Stiles made no move to offer his own reasoning. "Then I challenged him, he reacted as Laura had when she began to challenge Talia."

"I was angry at Isaac..." Stiles said slowly. "They were saying things and I just got angry."

"Anger does have some links to Lycanthropy -"

"I know that," Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Are you positive you haven't willed yourself to Alpha-hood?" Deaton asked.

Stiles frowned at the man, he could feel Peter tense next to him, sensing his annoyance. He had done nothing of the sort, sure, he had promised Scott that he would _find_ an Alpha if he needed to, but that didn't mean himself. It wasn't possible that _he_ become one.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't know then," Deaton admitted. "I will ask some contacts, see if they can find anything -"

"Am I a danger to anyone?" Stiles asked, interrupting Deaton.

"Not unless you want yourself to be," was the honest response that Stiles received, leaving him to consider just what he could possibly do.


	19. Researching

"So Deaton thinks you magicked yourself an Alpha?" Scott asked with a hint of disbelief in his tone. He was laid on his back across his bed while Stiles had claimed the floor. He was looking through the few sites that Stiles had sent to him the previous night whilst Stiles continued to search more on his own laptop.

"I think so," Stiles said with a shake of his head as he glanced up to Scott. The boy had his own laptop set up in front of him. "It just seems so stupid, nothing I've read says it's possible. _Magic_ isn't even capable of it. There is nothing to even hint that you can _will_ yourself into something different," Stiles pointed out.

Scott nodded, he had done his part before Stiles had first arrived. He had looked through the information that Stiles wanted him to and he agreed that _nothing_ seemed to agree with Deaton's thought process. There were a few mentions of types of magic users that had unlimited power that were not fully known about, but those tended to show signs for a lot longer than Stiles had.

"Maybe he thinks you are one of those unstudied magic users," Scott mused.

"I don't show the signs," Stiles pointed out. "It was the ash that had the magic in it, I only acted as a wand."

"You're more than a wand," Scott responded instantly, smiling at Stiles' annoyed glance.

"Just read!" Stiles snapped.

The two fell back into their silence. Scott going back to the websites that Stiles had sent him with a groan, his head resting on his folded arms as he lazily scanned the words on the screen. Stiles was laid on his front, feet bent back in the air as he kicked them whilst he read his own leads, having already scanned over what he had sent to Scott. As they read, neither found anything that really stood out as useful.

"I don't know how you do this," Scott groaned, as he tended to when he agreed to join Stiles on his researching binges. Stiles ignored his friend, focusing solely on what he was reading.

Scott had already given up, bored with reading when he turned his attention to Stiles. It always struck Scott as strange how much Stiles changed his behaviour when he was focused on researching. Typically, Stiles was one to be continuously moving, he fidgeted so much that in past classes, his classmates had complained due to his constant tapping. Yet, when Stiles was researching, he was almost still. Sure, he still fidgeted, but nowhere near the degree he normally did. His movements tended to turn lazy when it came to fidgeting, instead, it seemed that all the excess energy that he would normally use was concentrated on the task at hand.

"Try and find something on Alpha's," Stiles ordered, noticing Scott's eyes on him.

"You know I don't have the google skills for that," Scott pointed out.

Stiles levelled a glare at his friend. He held up his own laptop for Scott to talk.

"Read those, I'll look then," Stiles snapped, waiting for Scott to pass his own laptop over. He pulled the laptop close to him, unplugging it from the power as he began to search for more information.

"Listen to this," Stiles said after a while, frowning at the laptop screen. "In the animal kingdom, the Alpha is the one with the most strength and courage. Which doesn't really follow what we've seen of Alpha werewolves. It goes on the say in the human world, an Alpha is more than that. It is a man who wants to survive the most and live their life to the fullest and achieve what they want," Stiles read.

"Sounds fake," Scott pointed out, throwing the packet of biscuits that he had next to him to Stiles, who caught them.

"Wait!" Stiles muttered, around the biscuit that he had taken a bite of. "It lists characteristics. Strength, but not necessarily physical strength, it says mental strength is more important –"

"So handling strange things and making the right choices… not dragging poor kids out in the middle of the night," Scott snickered.

"They tend to be leaders," Stiles continued, talking louder. "Instinctively taking control of things. Wanting to win and get what they want – wait! It says that they tend to be rule breakers!" Stiles finished with a snort.

"Well, you certainly aren't that," Scott said, full of faux innocence.

"Shut up!" Stiles laughed, rolling over onto his side so he could try to hit Scott from the floor. Scott also moved from his position so he was just out of reach of Stiles' lazy hand.

Without too much prompting, Stiles _and_ Scott both returned to their task of researching.

"All of this is bullshit," Stiles groaned, pushing the laptop further away from him. " _Alpha males know they are the shit_ , who even wrote this crap?"

"Some 'you can be who you want to be' guy?" Scott suggested.

"That isn't any help," Stiles groaned. "I'm calling Peter -"

"No!" Scott protested.

"He knows more than we could probably find from google," Stiles pointed out, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"How do you even have his number?" Scott grumbled.

Stiles shrugged, knowing that telling Scott that it had just _appeared_ in his phone would do nothing to help the reluctant trust from budding.

"Just call him," Scott sighed. He missed Stiles' triumphant grin as he hit call.

" _This better be important_ ," Peter's soft voice came through the phone.

Scott watched as Stiles smiled wider when he put the phone on speaker.

"I have a question," Stiles said, his voice seeming to bounce more than his body would.

" _Of course you do darling_ ," Peter purred with a slight sigh. " _I thought you were with Scott today_."

"I am, he's here listening," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Tell us everything about Alpha's?"

" _I don't have the time, nor the energy to divulge into absolutely everything_."

"Sum it up," Scott injected, keeping his voice level even though he felt the need to speak louder.

" _What do you need dear_?"

"What makes an Alpha?" Stiles asked quickly.

" _There is nothing per say that makes an Alpha an Alpha_ ," Peter said slowly, and Stiles regretted asking when Peter was around since he was already missing the man being nearby. " _Alpha's are seen as the most reliable in a pack, that can change and twisted versions of who the Alpha was can occur. Normally, it's a case of the most competent person is chosen and then it is passed on to whoever is their successor_."

"You became Alpha when Luara died," Stiles pointed out. "No offence but you weren't exactly competent."

" _I'll ignore that_ ," Peter huffed. " _Laura was next in line after Talia, I didn't_ want _to be the Alpha._ "

"But when Derek killed you, he became Alpha," Scott frowned. The two of them heard Peter's loud exhale over the phone.

" _Consider who was around when I was killed would you_?" Peter asked silkily. " _It was a born wolf or a turned one who had been fighting his inner beast. You had no chance there. Plus, Derek had proven he would do what he needed to in order to protect his pack and even if you deny it, you_ were _a part of his pack,_ both _of you_."

Stiles shared a glance with Scott, both agreeing that Peter's words made sense. Stiles frowned slightly as he reconsidered the phone. So wolves that killed another Alpha had a slight advantage if it was done to protect someone else, or if they were the closest around. That still didn't explain _anything_.

"Did you find anything about non-wolf Alpha's?" Stiles asked.

" _Not yet darling, I will keep you updated, now I do really need to go._ "

Stiles said his goodbye before hanging up, ignoring Scott's gaze as he made notes on the word document he had opened earlier.

"Anything to admit beyond the sex?" Scott asked slowly.

"Don't know what you mean," Stiles muttered.

"Sure... _darling_."


	20. No Distraction

"I hope you're happy," Stiles huffed, not even blinking at the fact Peter was laid in his bed as a human rather than his fluffy counterpart. "Scott keeps calling me darling!" he pouted, letting himself fall onto the bed, fully clothed, shoes still in place.

"Are you that upset?" Peter asked, honestly curious. He wriggled from under Stiles, shuffling the boy around until he was laid in a more comfortable position.

"I guess not," Stiles admitted, sinking into Peter's arms. It was nice to be held, no worries about what was going on. No concern about the Alpha pack that were running around and probably _still_ watching their every move. "I miss fluffy you," Stiles sighed.

He couldn't hold back the grin when Peter huffed. Without looking, Stiles knew that Peter had rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry baby," he cooed, freezing when the term of endearment slipped out.

"Baby?" Peter repeated, his tone amused. Clearly, he hadn't gotten the memo to ignore it like Stiles had tried to telepathically beg. "If you want I can change later and we can sleep like that?"

"Noooo," Stiles whined, drawing the word out as he turned on top of Peter so he could bury his head in the man's chest. "Want human you."

"Make your mind up."

A glance up from Peter's chest showed that the man wasn't as annoyed as he tried to make it seem. The wide smile on his face had disproven that, even though his words had been exasperated.

"So what did you do today?" Stiles asked, moving a hand under his head so he could rest his chin comfortably in order to look up at the wolf.

"Really Stiles?" Peter sighed, an eyebrow raised. "We're resorting to small talk?"

"You were the one that said you had things to do!" Stiles pointed out, smirking when Peter sighed heavily, the motion making Stiles move with his chest.

"If you _must_ know," Peter said, a more put-out tone in his voice than needed. "I was trying to find a lead on what is happening."

"How?" Stiles asked, fully invested now as he pushed himself up until he was sat straddling Peter's stomach.

"Your shoes are filthy," Peter pointed out with a wrinkled nose, glaring at the offending things until Stiles huffed and pulled them off. Peter closed his eyes, not wanting to witness just _where_ they would land when Stiles undoubtedly threw them across the room.

Sure enough, Peter heard the two thumps from the shoes before Stiles' hands were back on his chest, vibrating slightly.

"Tell me," he whined.

"You are insufferable," Peter said dryly.

"Your life would suck without me," Stiles scoffed.

"My life certainly would be different," Peter noted, it was unlikely that he would have died so soon anyhow.

"So tell me," Stiles moaned, unconsciously bouncing where he sat as he spoke.

Almost too quick to notice, Stiles found himself flat on his back, the gasp having not left his lips until he met Peter's amused eyes. Stiles still had his legs around Peter, having tightened them during the movement, his hands still against Peter's chest.

Stiles licked his lips, his eyes not leaving Peter's. His thoughts travelled back to the _last_ time such a thing had happened, granted, it was the past day so it wasn't _too_ weird that Stiles still had the image so fresh in his mind.

"Such a teenager," Peter tutted, the heat not matching his words as he stared down at the boy below him. "This is another one of those moments where you smell divine darling," Peter murmured, barely loud enough for Stiles to register the words.

"We - we were talking," Stiles pointed out.

"We were," Peter agreed. He was holding his upper body up with one hand whilst the other went to one of the legs that were wrapped around his waist. "We could do so much more though," he suggested, letting his voice drop an octave lower. Peter's grin turned ravenous when Stiles made a broken sound in the back of his throat.

"Let me make you feel good darling?" Peter asked, smirking as he breathed in Stiles' arousal.

Stiles opened his eyes, unsure of just _when_ they had closed. However, the sight of Peter's victorious grin made Stiles' easy mood disappear.

"You are not distracting me," Stiles huffed, pushing Peter back and making a conscious effort to remove his legs from around the man's waist. "Tell me what you were doing."

Peter rolled his eyes, letting Stiles push him back until he was knelt. He watched as Stiles wriggled as he sat upright before levelling Peter with a waiting glare.

"I howled for a few acquaintances to see if they knew about non-wolf Alpha's," Peter said dryly.

"Really?"

"I take back every time I called you smart," Peter groaned. "No you idiot. I called them, like a normal human."

"You were the one that said it," Stiles pointed out, his amusement showing. "Now, did they say anything?"

"Nothing useful," Peter grunted. "Most of them said it was impossible -"

"I've been saying that!" Stiles pointed out, a _lot_ louder than necessarily if Peter's grimace were to be taken seriously.

"There was one Emissary that seemed to think differently," Peter continued once Stiles had finished his interruption. "She said that she wouldn't know for sure unless we agree to a meeting but there is a chance you have latent supernatural blood in you."

"What does that even mean?" Stiles asked with a frown.

"There is a chance that your family has interbred with supernatural beings, _that_ could be why you are a candidate for an Alpha's power," Peter explained, watching as Stiles frowned even more.

"How would she even know?"

"I don't know exactly," Peter admitted. "Emissaries are respected, they are taught things that packs are not allowed to know. They are thought to be the most responsible with that knowledge and it is against the rules, so to speak, for them to divulge their knowledge."

"Why is why Deaton is such a sneaky shit," Stiles assumed, smiling at Peter's nod of agreement. "So how do we do this meeting?" Stiles asked, meeting Peter's eyes without hesitation when they jumped to his.

"We didn't agree on meeting her," Peter pointed out.

"It's about me," Stiles reminded him. "I have a right to know."

"You will only annoy her darling," Peter tried to say gently.

"I'm meeting her," Stiles said firmly.

Peter let out a sigh, seeming to accept that the talk had not gone in the direction he wanted.

"We need to get Derek's approval," he held a hand up to stop Stiles' outraged interruption. "He is the Alpha of the area darling. It is only proper to inform him that another supernatural being, especially one from another pack is going to enter the territory, that way we avoid any fights."

Stiles seemed to consider that for a second before nodding.

"Ok, I'll tell him, you tell her that we want to meet her and get a date," Stiles said. "Once we have a time frame, we can tell Derek exactly _when_ and that will avoid any more stress on the pack. They have enough to be worrying about."

"You shouldn't be too concerned about them," Peter said offhandedly.

"I'm not heartless," Stiles pointed out.

"I suppose that's true," Peter agreed.

"Next time, don't try to distract me," Stiles commented, lying down once again and patting the bed for Peter to join him.

"I apologise darling, but I cannot promise such a thing," Peter smiled.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles grumbled, "just snuggle grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," Peter huffed, but the emotion that he would have normally pushed into that denial was not there. Instead, Peter just laid down, gathering Stiles into his arms and pulling him back against his chest.


	21. Derek Listens

**_Need 2 talk 2 u ASAP_**

Stiles had sent that to Derek, followed by a time and a request for him to meet Stiles. Derek had suggested the Hale house, which had caused Stiles to question Derek's sanity, but of course, he didn't say this out loud.

It just didn't make all that much sense to Stiles for Derek to want to be around such a devastating memory. Not to mention the guilt he clearly carried.

Saying any of that would only make Derek more reluctant to listen to what Stiles had to say, so, he kept it back. Waiting until he was face-to-face to even broach the topic of the Emissary.

"You smell different," Derek pointed out with a frown, saying the first words when Stiles finally arrived. He moved closer, ignoring Stiles' squawk of protest.

"Woah, personal space dude," Stiles threw his hands out to stop the man getting too close.

Derek glanced down at the hands which were now on his chest before looking back up to Stiles with an unamused expression.

"Not moving until you back up," Stiles said firmly.

"Why do you smell different?" Stiles felt himself tense at Derek's demanding tone.

"I don't know, why are you sniffing me?" Stiles snapped back. He watched as Derek furrowed his brows. "Ok, not in a talkative mood I see," Stiles said. "Don't know why I expected any different," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Look, there is an Emissary coming into town –"

"No there isn't," Derek frowned. He stared at Stiles with a heavy look, almost as though the answers would just come to him

"There is," Stiles said, no hint of a joke in his voice.

"It's against customs if they're uninvited," Derek pointed out. "We could kill them on principle if they are with another pack."

"Just let her," Stiles groaned. "It's only her and she just wants to talk."

"Why are _you_ asking on her behalf?" Derek asked with a sigh, finally taking a step back so Stiles' hands fell away from his chest.

"Why are you being so annoying?" Stiles asked right back, mirroring Derek's curiously annoyed tone.

"There are ways this should be done, and that isn't through a human affiliated to the pack. Why is she coming here?" Derek asked again.

"I'm not affiliated," Stiles pointed out. "I'm not pack –"

"You have a faint bond," Derek admitted. "You and Scott both have the choice to develop it further but you are still linked to us."

"I don't want to be pack," Stiles said firmly. "Not when there are so many problems with them," Stiles expected Derek to huff and complain but the man just stayed silent. Stiles couldn't help the sigh. "The Emissary is coming to see me," he offered.

"Why?" Derek asked gruffly, watching Stiles curiously.

"Jesus, make up your mind about how talkative you're going to be!" Stiles groaned. He levelled Derek with a glare as the man growled.

"Why is she –"

"Jesus, Peter asked her ok!" Stiles snapped. "Shut up!" he added when Derek growled once again. "I know you don't like him but he is family and he hasn't hurt anyone," Stiles said exasperatedly. "Speaking of which," he added loudly, "next time tell me yourself without sending your betas to pass on half messages. Peter isn't working with the alphas! How could you even think that?"

"How do you know?" Derek questioned with a growl. "He's never around."

"Check your facts," Stiles snapped. "He's pretty much with me all the time, he was following them because they've been trailing us. Don't you dare sigh at me," Stiles frowned, hating the pitying look Derek gave him.

"I told you not to trust him," Derek reminded Stiles.

"Who says I am?" Stiles asked, completely done with the conversation. He was half tempted to walk away and just take the risk of an uninvited visitor, but that wouldn't be good for the poor woman.

"You just happen to spend enough time together that your scents merge?" Derek asked skeptically.

"What?" Stiles asked with a frown. He knew that he probably smells of Peter, but to go as far as to say their scents were _merging_ was another thing all together.

"You smell of him."

"I know that!" Stiles groaned. "We - ahh, well, you know, we spend time together," Stiles fumbled.

"I'm not stupid," Derek pointed out.

"I never said that! I just don't want to tell you that we almost fucked - ah shit," Stiles ended with a groan. Of course, he manages to blurt out the one thing he didn't _want_ to say to Derek.

Stiles watched, still horrified at himself as Derek closed his eyes and brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing against the skin, as it to soothe a headache.

"What happened to 'he's older and I'm not stupid'?" Derek asked, his tone tired.

"Things changed?" Stiles offered.

"Obviously."

"You shouldn't drawl," Stiles glared. Stiles moved passed Derek and shook his head. "That isn't the point though," he said, beginning to pace as Derek watched. "The point is that the Emissary needs to be able to get here without you attacking her."

"You haven't explained why she's coming," Derek pointed out.

Stiles paused for a second. Not entirely sure what to tell Derek. On one hand, the truth would be useful. Derek would be able to help if Stiles is coming into Alpha-hood. Then again, it could cause conflict. _Alphas are territorial, more than one in an area almost certainly means conflict_. There was no point making things tense without an obvious reason.

"Peter is worried because the Alpha's seem to be following me," Stiles said, he spoke slowly, weighing the words before they left his mouth. "He contacted a few people and she thinks she may know the reason why, but she needs to meet me to know for sure."

"He must have had his own idea to get someone else," Derek pointed out, eyeing Stiles distrustfully, knowing he was holding something back.

"Dude! Just let me meet her and see if there's anything wrong with me," Stiles almost begged.

The room fell silent. Stiles began to regret his small outburst, it didn't seem like it would work. There must be another way, meeting her elsewhere, away from the Hale pack, away from the Alpha pack. Somewhere safe for both of them.

"The offer is still there," Derek said quietly, breaking the silence.

"What offer?" Stiles frowned, turning his full attention onto Derek.

"The bite," Derek clarified. His stance was less confident than it had been this whole conversation, gone was the man that seemed comfortable to force everyone into his own view.

"I don't want it," Stiles said firmly. "I do not want the bite. I do not want to be a werewolf," he spoke calmly, knowing that his heart wouldn't disagree. There was a time that Stiles _had_ wanted it, it was tempting. It always had been. Seeing what Peter had done, what he had been reduced to because of who he was made all the difference. Even now, Peter struggled, Scott struggled, even Derek struggled.

Stiles couldn't willingly do that to himself. Even without the risk of hunters, with the increased senses, Stiles wouldn't want anything to have rule over himself. He had meant what he had said to his dad, he didn't want to hide himself or be out of control.

"Ok," Derek nodded, accepting Stiles' words. There was a brief pause before he continued, "I want to be there when you meet her."

"No!" Stiles instantly disagreed.

"It is my territory," Derek pointed out.

"It's personal!" Stiles shot back.

"Stiles," the wolf growled.

"We haven't even finalised it yet," Stiles said calmer, realising he had to try and convince Derek of how much of a bad idea this was. "You don't really want to be there when she's seeing if something is wrong with me."

"Arrange it, tell me, I'll be there," Derek said, not budging. "It's customary."

"It's private," Stiles tried again.

"If you're that concerned I won't stay long but I need to welcome her," Derek said. "So she knows that I am ok with her here."

"Fine," Stiles grumbled, still not happy with the plan. There was always the chance they could arrange it at a really inconvenience time for Derek.


	22. Natalia

_**CHAPTER NOTE; And here we are**_ at _ **the last chapter that I have just written. More are on the way. I'm just glad that I'm back up to date on here now. I felt bad leaving you all so long.**_

"So… what's the plan?" Scott asked. If someone had told Stiles that Scott would be sat in the same room as Peter and not react to the man's presence, Stiles would have called them crazy. Yet, that is exactly what was happening. It was _weird_. Scott and Peter were both sat opposite to each other, Scott on the bed next to Stiles as Peter was perched in Stiles' desk chair.

"Derek wants to meet the Emissary," Stiles repeated, he was positive that he had _just_ told them both this. "He said maybe just for the start so she knows she's welcome in the territory for this."

"Is that all? Just that moment?" Peter asked. Stiles noticed the confused look on his face. "Alpha's are normally insistent on being present for all ongoings with outside beings," Peter continued. "It's custom. He knows this."

"He tried," Stiles admitted. "I talked him out of it. I didn't know how he would take the maybe-Alpha thing, and I didn't want to mention it if it wasn't a thing," he added with a shrug. " _Oh_ ," Stiles added as an afterthought, feeling a little frustrated with himself. "I _might_ have _accidentally_ told him about the other night."

Strangely enough, Peter had a similar reaction to Derek. He exhaled slowly, his eyes closed and his voice tired when he spoke; "Just _how_ was that accidentally?"

"He was asking a lot and I said the thing I was trying _really_ hard not to say," Stiles pointed out, his eyes wide as he tried to explain himself. "I didn't mean to do it!"

"In all fairness, he does have a habit of saying the wrong thing," Scott pointed out. "He admitted when we got lost, even though there wasn't any need to. We got back on time and everything but as soon as his dad asked if he had gotten gas he was all ' _Of course I did, and we definitely didn't get lost – not that you asked but I wanted to point it out_ ', he's useless," Scott grinned. As much as Stiles wanted to protest and defend his own honour. He had no ground to stand on. Scott knew that, of course, his friend had a lot more dirt on him than Stiles ever wanted to acknowledge. It went both ways, good friendship was built on blackmail, no one could tell Stiles any different.

"Why I'm here I don't know," Peter sighed. Just for a moment, Stiles took it personally. He gave Peter a dirty look, half prepared to fight his way to an empty house before he caught sight of Scott's raised eyebrow.

"You ok dude?"

"He's alright, just a little irritable," Peter answered smoothly. He didn't even seem to struggle with his words, like Stiles would have. He didn't offer an explanation, just assuming Scott would take it without a question. Stiles wondered if the conversation would have been different if Scott didn't know, or if Peter would have offered the exact same answer. It seemed crazy to even consider. It was crazy to realise just how much had changed since before Stiles had been kidnapped.

"Your father's home," Peter said, pulling Stiles back out of his introspective state. "I will see you again later."

"No," Stiles said a little too quickly. "Don't go."

"I cannot exactly stay darling," Peter said, there was half a smile on his face, mostly concentrated on the side that Scott couldn't see, but that didn't matter. Stiles leant into Peter's touch when the man raised a hand to his cheek. "There is no good explanation for this scene. I will be back later; I give you my word."

Unable to speak, Stiles nodded. His eyes closed without his consent, as much as he wanted to deny it, Stiles did hate each time Peter left. The cold air against his cheek was telling enough, even before his chest felt tighter, before his mind registered that the warm hand had moved. It was almost too tempting to keep his eyes closed and pretend Peter was still there, just in reach.

"Dude," Scott said quietly.

With a great deal of effort, Stiles opened his eyes. His chest seeming to fall a fraction as the lack of Peter confronted him. Trying to stay somewhat on task, Stiles focused on Scott. The teen was watching Stiles with an openly distressed look, his mouth slightly open and his whole posture sunken.

"You _like_ him," Scott said.

"I thought we established this," Stiles said somewhat cynically.

"But you like- _like_ him. You went goo-goo for him," Scott pointed out, his voice turning slightly incredulous.

"He's a good person," Stiles shrugged.

"No," Scott interrupted quickly and firmly. "He is not a good person. He has done good things to you apparently – _oh my god_ , not like that – I almost had to bleach my nose to get rid of the smell last time."

Almost as if it was written into their dynamic, Stiles laughed. His loneliness leaving as he leant on Scott's presence. Scott knew just how to make him feel better, even without trying, and it was something Stiles loved about him. That was exactly as John found the two of them. Stiles having moved closer so he could sprawl against Scott's side as he laughed, fiercely clinging to his brother in all but blood, who put up no sort of fight beyond the odd movement.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"For the last time, no," Stiles grumbled. He had been seriously regretting agreeing to being in the meeting. It had sounded like a good idea, but the hike through a really uncooperative part of the woods was making him change his mind. Neither of the wolves seemed to care. Peter assured him, half an hour ago, that they were almost there, and Derek had been no help other than to ask what the plan was, who knew of the plan, and how it was likely to go wrong.

"Do you want to stop?" Peter asked, falling back in step with Stiles, rather than leading the way. Mustering up enough energy to glare at Peter, Stiles almost tripped over another tree root. With a fond chuckle, Peter steadied the teen as he swore. At least the glare had moved from Peter to the offending object.

"Don't even," Stiles grumbled.

"I could carry you," Peter teased.

" _Peter_ ," Derek warned, just quiet enough to be outside of Stiles' hearing range.

"You pick me up and you're dead," Stiles huffed. Although, his hand did grasp Peter's arm. If anyone asked, he would have pointed out how uncoordinated he was, so the steadying hold was only to prevent him falling again. Thankfully, never Derek or Peter asked, or pointed it out.

Stiles grew more agitated as they continued to walk. It felt like hours, each step, each breath. They all blurred together, whilst still dragging on. The only thing anchoring Stiles was his hold on Peter's arm. Even Derek had quietened, no longer asking what-if scenarios. Perhaps the silence was what made the journey last.

The clearing was a welcomed sight. Stiles was tempted to fall to his knees and kiss the finally flat ground, like all those lost-at-sea people did upon finding land. It was almost too easy to overlook the woman already standing in the clearing. _Too easy_ , Stiles' eyes narrowed as he focused on her. She seemed perfectly normal. Even still, Stiles wanted to overlook her, to look away and see just what else was around. _Normal_.

"Natalia," Peter said, stepping forward. Stiles' hand fell from Peter's arm as he moved. "It is nice to see you again. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"I was in the area," the woman said, her voice soft but clear across the clearing. Stiles couldn't help but stare at her, too intrigued in how average she seemed. Her dark skin seemed to shimmer under the sun, her hair too still in the wind. The more Stiles looked, the less _normal_ she seemed. "Alpha Hale," she nodded, her too dark eyes turning to Derek before they settled onto Stiles. Meeting her eyes, Stiles had an overwhelming urge to leave and not look back. She was unnerving, her eyes unblinking, and her whole stance screamed controlled and dangerous. " _You_ ," she whispered, her voice still carrying. The word surrounded Stiles, and a shiver ran down his back. "This is him?" She asked Peter, stepping forward before she stopped herself.

Derek's growl was warning enough to make her pause.

"I apologise," she said, nodding her head towards Derek once again. "I would like to get a better look at the child, if that is alright?"

"I don't like this," Derek said, he crossed his arms over his chest. He stared down Natalia, watching her every move. Stiles wondered if Derek was seeing something more than Stiles could.

"This is why she's here," Peter sighed, almost exasperated with his nephew. "Ignore him –"

"Peter," Stiles said, cutting the man off. Peter looked back, staring at Stiles with a confused look.

"Alpha Hale," Natalia said, addressing Derek once again. "May I?"

Stiles watched Derek, seeing his reaction to the woman. It was something that was truly fascinating. Derek swallowed, staring at the woman before he turned his attention over to Stiles. It was almost assessing, and Stiles wondered just what was going through his mind; if he wondered just what would happen, why she wanted to see Stiles, what was happening, or if he was just wondering if Stiles _could_ go face-to-face with this strange emissary and survive.

"It's your choice."

Stiles knew just how difficult it was for Derek to say that. Stiles could even hear the undertone of Derek letting Stiles know he would leave if he wanted. Stiles knew Derek would hate it, but he could hear that undertone loud and clear.

"What are you planning on doing?" Stiles asked, fighting back his shiver as he met Natalia's eyes once again.

This woman – Stiles was almost positive she wasn't human, there was so much danger to her that she couldn't be human. However, this _woman_ continued to stare at Stiles, and he wanted to shift away from her gaze.

"I just want to see you clearer."

That wasn't weird, or creepy at all.

"Ok," Stiles nodded. He walked closer on his own, moving in front of Peter, who had been the closest to her. Stopping in the centre of the clearing, Stiles waited for Natalia to move closer. She moved gracefully, almost gliding over to him. It was slow, and Stiles had a great impression of being prey.

" _Interesting_ ," she said softly. She stopped a metre away, still regarding Stiles intensely. "You have a lot of potential."

Stiles didn't know what to say. The words were stuck, getting lost between his mind and his voice. It was as if he was unable to think clearly, to form the words he wanted to use.

"There is a lot of power, _untapped_ power," she said. "It's all in your blood. There are people that couldn't handle the power. It's all in _you_. Your mate will only amplify your power, the starting of that bond is right there, so loose and bare. You will be tested," she warned.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, forcing the words past that barrier between his mouth and his brain. His need for more information was just too strong to let anything stop him asking questions.

"You are a strange one," she mused.

"What is in his blood?" Peter asked, stepping forward. Stiles felt the distance between them close.

"What did you mean people couldn't handle it?" Stiles added, _those_ words had stuck out. He needed an answer on that. There was just something about them that didn't sit right with Stiles, that hinted at something sinister, something he didn't want to even consider.

Natalia's eyes bore into Stiles' once again.

"You are afraid," she said, his voice gentle. "You are strong enough to survive. There is very little that could overpower you."

"That isn't an answer," Stiles protested, still not wanting to believe what she was saying.

"Those are answers I cannot give," Natalia said, her voice suddenly hard. "You are not ready and I am not in a position to tell you what you desire to know. There is a lot in store for you diabeł."

"What – what is that supposed to mean?" Stiles said. It was the first time he showed true unease around her. That panicked spike in his heart rate and the increase in his breathing made Derek move closer. Stiles knew that word. It had been a long time since he had heard anyone speak Polish, _years_ in fact. It was almost like a blast from the past, he could almost see his mother and hear her voice. _That_ alone was enough to make Stiles panic. The memory of his mother using that word in her tales was just too strong, too difficult to brush off as a coincidence.

"I can say no more," Natalia said. "I must caution you, if you search for answers, you may not like what you find."

"I need to know," Stiles said, but the steadiness in his voice just wasn't there. Stiles was thankful when Natalia once again thanked Derek before taking her leave, even more so when Peter didn't question it or try to stop her. He was focused solely on Stiles, and how suddenly pale the boy had gone.


	23. Tale of Dziwozona

_**AN: First off, thank you all for being so wonderful and kind. It does mean a lot to me. I am happy you're enjoying it, and that you aren't upset at how long it took me to get back to this one. Hopefully you enjoy this next part.**_

"She called me diabeł," Stiles said, frowning down at the pizza he still hadn't eaten. Stiles had been sat in the same place, with the same frown for roughly half an hour, and if Scott was being honest, he was worried.

Stiles had been quiet since he had come back from the meeting with the Emissary from out of town. As much as Scott wanted to ask questions, he restrained himself. However, not that Stiles had broached the topic specifically, although, he couldn't be talking about anything else, Scott was free to ask the questions that plagued him.

"What does that mean?" Scott said, understanding that Stiles knew more than he seemed to show. Beyond that confused fear was something deeper.

"Diabeł means demon," Stiles said. His eyes drew up to Scott's face just in time to catch the widening of his eyes and the uncertain look he received. "Mom told me stories about them, mainly two that I remember. Nija and Dziwozona," Stiles said, the Polish feeling rough in his mouth. It had been a long time since he had used it, and even then, the words had always been a little rough. Not unnatural but more difficult to form.

"I have no idea what that means," Scott admitted, much to Stiles' amusement.

"Of course you don't," he said, shaking his head. "Nija is the God of the underworld, I want to say there was a link to money, spells and water too, but I'm not too sure about that," Stiles admitted. His mother had mainly glossed over those facts, focusing more on the underworld part in the nightly stories.

"So like Zeus?" Scott asked, trying his best to hold onto the information.

"I think so," Stiles agreed. "I remember more of Dziwozona," he added. _That_ story was one that his mother had spoken almost every night. The tale was in Stiles' mind word-for-word. Without prompting, he began to tell it. As Stiles told the story to Scott, he could hear his mom's voice say it to him as she had many years ago.

 _'There was a woman, she stayed away from the other people, never venturing further than the rivers. This lady was unique, her hair long and wet, her body cold to touch. People said she used her own body to wash her clothes on the rare occasion she wore them. So many people whispered tales about her, rumours that weren't true, ones that made her out to be this horrible, wicked monster. Even worse,'_ his mother would always say, her voice soft. She would pause for a second before continuing, ' _people told even more lies about what she did. They said she would take children and replace them with changelings. Changelings that looked strange, their heads either too big or too small for their body and too many teeth much earlier than they should have them. Changelings were not real, but people blamed her for their children being different, sometimes she would take the children away if their parents were being too mean. She would protect them, that is all she ever wanted. Some people even thought you could make a woman like this, a Dziwozona. They were wrong, for nothing could create such a thing._

 _'This woman, she fought the lies and the tales about her, hiding away at the riverside. She hated what she was, why she was feared. One day, people saw another person at her river, a man. Whispers broke out, everyone wanted to know who had fallen into her trap, who she had bewitched, for she was not a fair maiden. Months the two met in secret, just missing the eyes of the villagers and managing to get away without being caught. One day, though, the woman couldn't hide. She was captured and the man came to her rescue. He begged for her to be let go, for she was with child. The villagers feared the worst, fearing she had stolen a child, caused another to lose their own. Unable to help her, the man watched in horror as the woman was taken away. Life continued, the man feeling lost for his love had disappeared, none of the villagers would offer him help, each still under the impression he was bewitched by her spell. It wasn't until a year later, a new mother found the man, passing her child on to him, whispering about how Dziwozona wanted it to be. Taking care, the man cradled the child, holding the young girl close as he planned his escape. He knew, just looking at the child, that she was his. Her mother may have been taken, but he wouldn't let her be captured as another Dziwonzona, thanking the young mother, he turned and never returned to the village. He lived by rivers, taking time to teach his daughter to swim and care for herself as her mother had taught him. Years later, he anxiously watched as she found her own man, afraid that the past would repeat itself, but it never did.'_

"What was it?" Scott asked, leaning forward, almost too entranced in the story. Stiles knew that Scott was asking what a Dziwonzona was. It had been a long while before Stiles had asked his mother just what a Dziwonzona was, what the word meant to those villagers. Stiles could remember how his own mother had paused at the question, looking at him with such an intensity that he feared he had offended her.

"A swamp or water demon," Stiles said, the words heavy in his chest. He didn't mention how his mother had given him such a harsh look as she had answered, one that seemed to be filled with disbelief at what Stiles had asked. "She said it was a family tale, one that her mom had told her."

"That doesn't mean anything," Scott tried to reason.

"It doesn't exactly seem positive," Stiles pointed out. "Family tale," he repeated. "One her mom told her, and so on, passed on through the generations. That doesn't sound good. What –" Stiles cut himself off, almost not wanting to even speculate on what he was thinking, not out loud. He thought Scott would claim him crazy, even if it wasn't the craziest thing that Stiles had proposed to the other teen.

"You don't think –"

"I don't know ok," Stiles said, cutting off Scott's words, fearing what might be said. "I just don't know what to think," he shook his head.

"But what would that mean?" Scott asked, but his mind had already settled on the same word as Stiles. _Diabeł_.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"You wanted to talk?" Peter asked.

Scott had gone home, still unsure of what to think, and a little wary of leaving Stiles alone after what they were both thinking. Stiles had almost pushed the other out of the house, just making sure that Scott _had_ actually left.

"Not talk," Stiles protested, "can – would you mind –?"

"You want me to change?" Peter asked, almost understanding exactly what Stiles needed without him even having to say the words. Hearing Peter's suggestion, Stiles' whole body sagged as he nodded. "You know I don't mind."

Stiles still looked away as Peter moved further into the room, having entered through the window again. As much as Stiles wanted to make a joke, to even ogle Peter as the man stripped, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted that hint of comfort, and Stiles knew that Wolf-Peter managed that without any need for talking. They could just stay in silence and it would be perfectly fine.

A whine broke Stiles out of his thoughts. With a sad smile, Stiles buried his hand into Peter's fur, wrapping his other arm around the wolf's neck and burying his face into the fur as well. It was a moment that made Stiles thankful that Peter was _Peter_ and not a true animal, since no other animal would happily stay still as Stiles hung around their neck. He just needed to breathe, and Peter helped him do that without his mind getting too noisy for him.

"Thank you," Stiles said softly, the words muffled by the fur. "Can you stay like this? I just want to cuddle."

Peter huffed, a heavy breath forced out of his muzzle. Stiles grinned, knowing that it was as close to a verbal eye roll that Peter could do in this form.

Finally untangling himself, Stiles moved backwards, letting Peter have some air as he laid back on the bed. He patted the space next to him, expecting Peter to jump up and move closer, like he would normally, only to gasp for air as Peter's body landing on his. Stiles laughed, his eyes closing as he rewrapped his arms around Peter's hulking body. This had been what he wanted, even if he hadn't envisioned Peter being laid on top of him for it.


End file.
